The Killing Moon
by The Lady Elrond
Summary: Robert Muldoon struggles to keep his head above water (and his guts inside his stomach) whilst cleaning up the mess left by Dennis Nedry, doing John Hammond's dirty work, rescuing errant scientists and small children from hungry dinosaurs, avoiding a pack of murderous raptors, and trying not to fall in love with his assistant. [1993 film-verse]. Muldoon/OC, fix-it fic. On hiatus.
1. Chapter 1

**The Killing Moon**

 **Chapter One**

She was leaning over the raptor enclosure again, watching the damn things feed, her features twisted into an unappealing mask of repulsion and awe, horror and fascination, like a rubbernecker driving past a fatal car crash, gawping at strewn limbs and bloody windscreens. Engrossed in the gruesome scene, she did not see him approach, did not hear his reproach, not until he put his hand upon her shoulder and repeated himself in that familiar tone of long-suffering distaste.

"I do wish you'd find a new hobby, Tess."

She jumped, startled, and pressed a hand over her ribs, smiling faintly, "Christ, you scared me half to death!" He chuckled, leaning against the concrete, and she slapped his forearm in playful rebuke, "Why don't _you_ get a new hobby, instead of sneaking up on me all the time? It's starting to get quite boring, Robert."

"I'll take boring over morbid any day." Robert Muldoon peered into the enclosure, wrinkling his nose at the metallic tang of fresh blood, a scent which seemed to permeate and pollute the air all around them.

"I love watching them," Tess replied simply, following his gaze, "I know you don't approve, but…oh, I can't explain it. I just can't help myself."

"Well then, I guess I need to find more work for you to get on with around the park," Robert said, reaching under his hat to scratch the balding spot at his crown, "Keep you busy. Keep you away from here. From _them_."

Tess pouted, "You're no fun."

"Come on, you'd be here all day if I didn't watch you like a hawk. Or you'd be holed up in the control room with Ray, bumming his cigarettes and watching those godawful American soap operas."

"Harmless escapism."

"I'm telling you, it'll rot your brain."

"Pshaw!" Tess huffed, taking her hat off to fan herself with the brim, "Like I said, no fun at all."

She closed her eyes, sighing in the oppressive heat, and Robert allowed his gaze to wander over her face, his eyes darting furtively, like those of a guilty child. It was a bad habit of his, watching her when she didn't realise he was doing it, completely unaware of his eyes upon her, devouring her features in quick bursts of clandestine rapacity. It made him feel strange, blasphemous, almost. _Voyeuristic._

She was a short woman. _Petite_ , Robert supposed, was a nicer word than short, although he wasn't the type of man to euphemise, least of all in order to spare sensibilities or pander to vanity. No, she was definitely short. 'Short arse', he liked to call her, knowing she'd counter with 'lanky git' if she was in earshot, which she usually was. A short arse, with a big gob and the elusive remnants of a Mancunian accent, mostly expunged during her late teens and early twenties, when she was studying in London, travelling across Europe, working in Africa. She was not in the first flush of youth, but a good few years younger than him nonetheless, having celebrated her thirty second birthday earlier that same month. Dark brown hair, growing out from a bob, streaked with shades of red and gold by the sun. Hazel eyes, closer in colour to brown than green. Light olive skin, luck of the draw whether she would tan or burn on any given day, dappled with freckles upon her chest, forearms, and the bridge of her upturned nose. She was big around the hips, with sturdy calves and a weighty backside. Her waist was slender, her breasts ripe and supple. Shaped like teardrops, the nipples large and rosy, if Robert remembered correctly. His memories of the one and only time they had slept together were hazy, blurred by the passage of time and the impressive amount of alcohol he had consumed on the night in question. He allowed his gaze to follow his train of thought.

Tess opened one eye, squinting at him.

"Yeah, you _definitely_ need a new hobby. Eyes up, soldier, nothing to see down there."

He blinked, forcing his gaze upwards, and grinned sheepishly, "Yes sir, sorry sir."

Tess smirked, charmed in spite of herself. Robert didn't smile often, which was a shame because he really did have a lovely smile. A _cheeky_ smile, like a little boy caught at some mischief. He was quite a miserable git mostly, though. A man who demanded respect, stern and severe, a habitual pessimist, increasingly grumpy with age. He did like to play up the whole 'dour Yorkshireman' thing too, mostly, she suspected, because he knew it was certain to wind her up.

" _Honestly, it's like the War of the Roses all over again with you two_ ," John Hammond had been heard to say, on more than one occasion, amused and exasperated by their playful spats over regional pride, whilst their colleagues exchanged bewildered looks.

Creaking and groaning, rattling and screeching, the feeding apparatus began to rise from the depths of the raptor enclosure, minus its unfortunate bovine occupant and torn to pieces in several places. _As must be that poor old bull by now,_ Tess thought bleakly. Pushing the sombre thought aside, she stretched luxuriously and crumpled her hat in one fist, slapping it against her thigh, "I suppose we better get back to work, make sure everything is ready for tomorrow."

Robert nodded, his expression grim, "Big day for all of us. Time to see what John's guinea pigs make of this place."

"You don't seem too thrilled at the prospect."

"This visit means we are one step closer to opening Jurassic Park to the general public, if Dr Grant and the others sign off on it. I just can't help feeling that we're ringing the bloody dinner bell for those bastards." He jerked a thumb in the direction of the raptor enclosure, frowning at the chirruping sounds which echoed back at him, like a response, or a taunt, from the strange beasts within.

Tess rolled her eyes, "With the dino experts as the _hors-d'oeuvres?"_

"Possibly, if the worst comes to the worst."

"You can be the after dinner mint."

Robert snorted, "Let's hope not."

"Nah, you're too gristly. Even The Big One would have a hard time keeping you down."

He aimed a playful swipe at her, narrowly missing as she slipped past him and began to climb down from the viewing platform. Smirking, he followed, taking the metal steps two at a time. He told himself it was because he wanted to get back to work, or even because he wanted to catch up with Tess and continue their innocent flirtation on the way to the Visitor's Center, but the tiny hairs prickling upon his arms and at the back of his neck gave the lie to these excuses.

Robert Muldoon was not a coward, not a man to be easily frightened or intimidated, least of all by a dumb animal. He had faced down a bull elephant in musk, holding his ground when the beast charged him, enraged by the sting of the tranquiler dart he had shot into its hide. He hadn't moved, hadn't flinched, not even when those around him began to scatter for safety. Elephants, cape buffalo, big cats, hyena, wild dogs. He had worked with them all and more besides, some of the deadliest animals in the world, but not once had he experienced _real_ fear, the kind of fear he now lived with on a daily basis. It was a primal feeling, an instinctive urge to run and hide, to close his eyes and pray for deliverance. The primitive ancestors of mankind had known this feeling, he imagined. They had fled to their caves before nightfall, had huddled close together around the fire, their only sanctuary from the creatures prowling in the darkness beyond. Nature, red in tooth and claw. They had feared it, respected it, lived and died by its cruel and bloody law.

The raptors were red in tooth and claw too. They were fast and strong, ferocious, born with an arsenal of death at their disposal...and _oh_ , they were _clever_ , devilishly so, especially The Big One. She was not a dumb animal, no more than Robert himself was, and he was _afraid_ of her, of them all, and he hated it. Hated them, and hated John for allowing the damn things to exist in the first place. Above all, he hated himself for being a part of this whole sordid mess, and for being afraid. Not that he would ever admit it, of course, not even if someone dangled him over the raptor enclosure by the ankles. He tried to tell himself that being afraid was smart, that being afraid of them meant he would never become careless in their presence, as others had. A potentially dangerous mistake with any animal, allowing yourself to become careless when dealing with raptors was a _fatal_ error. Whether Jophrey Brown's death had been preventable or not was debatable. Robert was of the opinion that a gory end was probably inevitable when one decided to follow a career in velociraptor management - not for himself hopefully, seeing as he had insisted upon reinforced electric fences around the enclosure, and a large hoard of military grade weapons, to which he had almost exclusive access. Despite this, it was undoubtedly true that a collective carelessness was one of the many factors which had contributed to Brown's death, if not the underlying cause of that particular incident.

Robert blamed himself, of course. He had been in charge, after all, and a man had died on his watch. He had lost people in the past of course, long before he worked for John in Kenya. One chap had been trampled by an elephant, one had been mauled by a lion, one had been taken by a crocodile, and so on, with countless minor injuries along the way. 'Minor' was often much worse than the word suggested, meaning "At least the poor sod survived" in most cases, rather than "Oh, just a scratch" - many of Robert's contacts had lost a limb, or worse, and he counted himself lucky to have escaped relatively unscathed.

Robert had seen some awful things during his years in the industry, but losing Jophrey Brown to The Big One had almost broken him, in truth. He had fought with all his might, holding Brown against his chest and digging the heels of his boots into the loose dirt, like a man in a grotesque tug-of-war match. Afterwards, haunted by the man's dying screams, he had compiled the necessary incident reports and escaped the park for a little while, driving down to the beach in one of the gas jeeps. Alone, he sat upon the sand and lost himself in a bottle of whiskey, watching the waves lap against the shore as the sun began to set on the horizon. Tess had come after him in another jeep after an hour or so. He was drunk when she found him, disgustingly so, but she had not scolded him. She had been there when the raptor took Jophrey Brown, had seen Robert's struggle to save the man, and so she settled herself in the sand beside him and took a large mouthful from the bottle before handing it back to him.

They sat in silence for a time, until Robert finally spoke, his voice gritty and hoarse, "I couldn't save him. I just couldn't..." Tess gripped his hand, as though trying to hold him together. He shook his head violently, "I keep hearing him, he was pleading for his life, begging me to save him...and I can see _her_ , staring at me with those yellow eyes. Christ, why didn't they fucking shoot her?"

Tess shushed him, "Don't, Robert. Please, don't torture yourself. You tried..." He had almost sobbed at that, holding his head in his hands, but she grabbed his shoulders and shook him, firm and gentle all at once. She pulled him close, kissing his face over and over again, murmuring softly in the voice of a mother comforting her child, until he had wrapped his arms around her and dragged her down onto the sand, rolling her beneath him. She gave herself to him, freely and without a single word, like a willing sacrifice, offering her flesh to sate the beast raging within him. God, it had been good to _fuck_ , to melt into her softness and forget the world, just for a short time.

Later, when the moon was full and high above them, she drove him back to the park in his jeep, leaving her own behind until the next morning. He had tried to talk to her about it later that afternoon, when they were going over paperwork, but she had brushed it aside, as though it had never happened at all.

"I don't want anything to change between us. You were drunk, I was vulnerable, and we were both in a bad way after what happened to Jophrey. Let's not make it into something it's not, okay?"

Robert baulked at the memory now, wondering what the hell he would have said to her anyway, if she had wanted to talk about it. What had he wanted to say to her; "Let's do it again soon" maybe, or "Was it good for you?" perhaps? He really didn't know.

 _"I was vulnerable..."_

Just what the fuck had she meant by that, anyway? Tess Hopkirk was one of the least 'vulnerable' person he had ever met in his life. They had met in Kenya, where they worked alongside each other in John Hammond's reserve for nearly five years before Robert was offered the position of head game warden at Jurassic Park. There was a second position up for grabs at the time, a vacancy for an assistant game warden, and Robert had recommended Tess for the job himself, vouching for her without hesitation when John asked for his professional opinion. Tess was dependable, resourceful, calm and level-headed under pressure, with nerves of steel to rival his own. She was better at paperwork too, had a patience and a knack for it, something he had never quite mastered. She was not without her faults of course. A bit of a daydreamer, prickly to the point of abrasiveness at times. She had a chronic lazy streak too, if she could get away with it, which she couldn't when Robert was around. Jophrey Brown's death had only reinforced Robert's trust in her; she was one of the few people he could rely on to have his back in a situation like that, if it ever happened again.

"Never again," Robert swore through clenched teeth, balling his fists until the knuckles were taut and white beneath the skin, "Not on my watch."

He caught up with Tess, brushing the dark thoughts away like cobwebs when she turned to look at him with concerned eyes, a question poised upon her parted lips.

"I'm fine," Robert assured her, hoping she would just leave it at that. She nodded, although she obviously did not believe him, and they walked back to the Visitor's Center in companionable silence.

 _"I was vulnerable."_

Robert heard those words again, tormenting him with whatever hidden meaning they held, but he forced himself to think about tomorrow. Part of him hoped for the best, wanted everything to go smoothly. This was the professional part of Robert Muldoon, the part that enjoyed the big fat check which came with the job, the part that relished a challenge, the part that respected John Hammond and wanted to share in his dream. The scientists and lawyers would give John a big thumbs up and Jurassic Park would open to the public at last, filling the world with wonder, enchanting kids and their parents alike, making a few people very rich and a lot of people very happy. At this, the other part of him spoke up, the part of him that wanted the scientists and lawyers to shut this place down for good. Cynical, fearful, realistic. People are going to get hurt, this part insisted. People are going to _die_ here.

Robert remembered the way _she_ had looked at him. The Big One, her yellow eyes piercing into him as she dragged Jophrey Brown from his desperate grasp with her talons, promising that he would be next, if she had her way.

 _Just try it,_ Robert growled to himself, addressing the smirking raptor in his mind's eye. He thought of his personal arsenal, safely locked away in the emergency bunker, and smiled, _You might think you're a clever girl, but I've got a fucking rocket launcher._

 **a/n I know I said "no more multi-chapter fics" after I finally finished with 'Compromise' but I saw Jurassic World earlier this week and it reignited my love of the novel and the original film, resulting in this piece, written during a rare hour of freedom and inspiration. So shoot me. This is just a little taster, might stay that way if there is no interest or if I don't have the time, or motivation, to continue. Follows the plot and characters of the first film (Steven Spielberg, 1993), hence John Arnold is Ray Arnold, John Hammond isn't a massive dick but Donald Gennaro certainly is, Robert Muldoon is a Yorkshireman with sexy legs (who may or may not die, depending on my mood), Alan Grant and Ellie Sattler are in a relationship, etc and so forth. I usually avoid OCs, but I made an exception for that rule in my PotC fic 'Choosing a Side' (currently on hiatus) and it was well-received, so we'll see how Tess gets along. I'm quite fond of her already, and I don't _think_ she's a Mary Sue, so hopefully you guys will enjoy her too. Let me know what you think! Title is taken from the song of the same name, (Echo and the Bunnymen, 1984). _T_ _L E x_  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**The Killing Moon**

 **Chapter Two  
**

Evening had fallen, the air was alive with cricket song and the eerie shrieks of the nocturnal Dilophosaurus, and the sun was beginning to set over Isla Nublar when Robert Muldoon finally called it a day. It had taken the best part of the afternoon to run through the security checks, driving around the park to test the electric fences and motion sensors, ensuring that everything was in place for the arrival of the scientists tomorrow. Robert would not leave anything to chance; many of these precautionary measures had been down to him, forced through at the last minute upon his insistence, with the backing of the park's investors, although John had fought them at every step.

Tess had spent an hour in the emergency bunker, counting ammo and making a final inspection of Robert's precious weapon depository. Everything seemed to be in working order, much to her relief. It was hot and stifling in the bunker, oppressively so, despite the air-conditioning, and she was glad when Robert relented and finally appeared to let her off the hook.

"Night cap?"

"Definitely."

They were walking past the Visitor's Center, making their way over to the staff village, which was located on a bare strip of land roughly halfway between the Visitor's Center and the Safari Lodge, along the main service route into the park. This so-called village was actually nothing more than a block of apartments, squat and unattractive, which served as a temporary hall of residence for the few members of staff who were currently living on Isla Nublar. Later, once the official opening of the park had been confirmed, John had promised them a luxurious complex with individual bungalows, a general store and other necessary facilities, and plenty of recreational outlets - cafes, bars, a basketball court, and so on.

The apartment block was ugly, but it was spacious and fully furnished, and they had the entire place to themselves, more or less. There was only a handful of permanent staff, most of whom currently resided in San Jose, courtesy of InGen's generous employee benefit scheme, and commuted to and from the mainland by private ferry each day. Robert and Tess had claimed the penthouse suite, which had two bedrooms with en-suite bathrooms, and Ray Arnold, the park's chief engineer, had full run of the floor below, although he was rarely to be found away from the Visitor's Center, preferring to spend most of his time in the control room. Henry Wu, InGen's top geneticist, was also a permanent resident, but he had his own offices in the lab and was often away from the island, working on other projects for the company and chasing up important research in the interests of the park.

There was a fully stocked mini-bar in each apartment, which John was had assured them was free of charge to his staff, provided they did not overindulge or drink whilst on duty. Robert and Tess had taken full advantage of their employer's generosity over the past eighteen months, enjoying a regular tipple together, sometimes with Ray, when they could pry him away from his computer screens. They had been unsuccessful in their attempts to seduce him into joining them on this particular occasion. He was keeping a close eye on a bad weather front coming in from the west, bringing the possibility of a storm with it. John had not been pleased by the storm report, although he refused to entertain Robert's suggestion that they postpone the tour. The old man's stubbornness, his pride, and his apparent disregard for reasonable safety measures were major bones of contention in his otherwise positive relationship with the head game warden, and this latest clash between them had not improved Robert's sour mood.

"He's bloody irresponsible," Robert growled, nursing a tumbler of whiskey between his large hands. He and Tess were sitting upon the roof terrace of their apartment, watching the sky change from hazy orange and red to a twilight purple, shot through with strands of pink and blue, the moon rising above the island like a golden coin.

"A killing moon," Tess observed, trying to distract Robert from his gloomy reverie, "Reminds me of Kenya." In Africa, the big predators often preferred to hunt after dusk, by the light of the full moon, when the temperature was cool and their prey could not see them in the dark. During her years working for John in Kenya, she would often hear them at night, disturbed from sleep by the roar of a lion in the distant, or the low rumblings of the pride after they had made a kill. Tess felt suddenly nostalgic for those days, and for the years before, when she was studying zoology in London, and backpacking around Europe with her friends from university. She loved her job, it was a once in a lifetime opportunity after all, but Jurassic Park was still a work in progress and there was not much for her to do, not until everything had been settled and the park was up and running, open to the public at last. The past eighteen months had been tedious really, a monotony of setbacks and paperwork, punctuated by brief moments of unsurpassed excitement and wonder - _her first glimpse of a dinosaur, a real life dinosaur!_ \- or nightmarish horror - _the death of Jophrey Brown._ For a moment, Tess wanted to call her mother, just to hear her voice, but the phones in the village were only connected to the local line, which meant she would have to trek back to the Visitor's Center and bother Ray at work. Besides, it was almost 11pm, and there was a time difference of seven hours between Isla Nublar and the United Kingdom. She didn't want to ring home when it was likely that her parents would be sleeping.

Instead, she poured herself another gin and tonic, her third of the night, and lit a cigarette, inhaling deeply before releasing the smoke with a sigh of intense satisfaction. Robert was not the best company tonight, preoccupied with thoughts of John Hammond and raptors and the bad weather and everything that could possibly go wrong, as he so often was these days, but she didn't mind. It was enough that he was here. They had never needed to talk all that much anyway, neither being the type to chatter on about nothing in particular. They were both content to sit quietly, watching the world go by, and the silence between them was a comfortable one, soothing even.

Tess smiled, feeling the stress of the day beginning to slowly fade away. Resting her head against Robert's shoulder, she followed the progress of the moon across the sky, warm with gin and pleasant thoughts.

"Hey." Robert had been dozing off, but he stirred at the sound of her voice, tilting his head to meet her gaze. She grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief, "Wanna get a little drunk and fool around?"

He stiffened, his body suddenly rigid and taut, and then shifted slightly, moving away so that she was forced to lift her head from his shoulder. She arched an eyebrow, perturbed by his coldness, "Is there a problem?"

"No," Robert replied, but his tone was curt, his mind screaming _Vulnerable! Vulnerable!_ even as his loins flared violently in hopeful anticipation. He got to his feet, draining the last of the whiskey from his glass, "I think we should be thinking about turning in soon. Big day tomorrow, after all. I don't think John would appreciate his two game wardens showing up pissed on the job, embarrassing him in front of his lawyers and scientists."

Tess rolled her eyes, "I was joking, Bobby." She finished her own drink and set it aside, eyeing him suspiciously, "Since when did you give a damn about what John thinks?"

"Alright, you've got me there, but it's a shitty idea, Tess, joke or not. Being tired and hungover around raptors is a good way of getting yourself eviscerated, and I'd rather keep my insides _inside_ , where they're supposed to be, if that's all the same to you. Really, I don't know what the hell's gotten into you tonight."

"I'm sorry," Tess said, her expression one of weary resignation, "I've just been feeling a little restless, you know?"

"Aye, I know." Robert ruffled her hair fondly, reassuring her with his touch, "I think we're all quite tense at the moment." He turned his gaze to the horizon, frowning, trying to catch a warning glimpse of the oncoming storm. Tess shook her head at him, exasperated by his anxiety, his pessimism, his catastrophising and doomsaying, but half in love with him all the same, her heart swelling with tenderness for him. She took his hand, squeezed it, pressed a fond kiss to his knuckles.

"Go to bed, Bobby. The park will still be here tomorrow."

"More's the pity." He stifled a yawn, "Don't stay up too late."

"I won't. Goodnight."

"'Night."

Tess watched the sky darken to black, counting stars like sheep until her eyelids began to droop. She fell into bed, sinking almost immediately into a dreamless sleep.

Her alarm went off at 5am, the red digital numbers flashing insistently in the gloom. She forced herself out of bed, took a quick shower and got dressed, pausing to tilt the window-blinds and peer outside, before she left her bedroom. Blue skies and sunshine, no sign of a storm, but she knew all too well how changeable the weather could be, here in the Tropics.

Robert was already up, eating toast and drinking tea on the terrace. His eyes were bloodshot and ringed with dark circles.

"Did you sleep well?"

He snorted, "Like a baby, as you can see."

He didn't tell her about the dreams, the _nightmares_ , made up some tall tale about the crickets keeping him awake with their incessant chirping. She knew he was lying, of course. There had been crickets in Kenya and he had snored like a rhino all the same. Still, she didn't question it, knowing better than to push for an answer from him.

He couldn't tell her about the nightmares, about waking in the night with a start, drenched in sweat and breathing hard. The Big One and Jophrey Brown haunted him, even in sleep, and he was always _running_ in his dreams, always running and screaming and scared, with something horrible at his heels. Raptors, it was always the fucking raptors, and when he didn't dream about them he was dreaming about _her_ , about Tess, spread open beneath him, or on top of him, riding his cock. Sometimes the two visions would merge in his fraught dreamscape, and those were the worst ones, the ones where Tess was dead, a naked corpse in his arms, when she'd been pink and alive and moaning his name just a moment before. Her face would be missing, but for one accusing hazel-brown eye, and The Big One would appear, bloody and grinning, shreds of Tess between her fangs. Jophrey would be there too, a gore-splattered zombie, telling him that it was all his fault, that Tess was _vulnerable_ and Jophrey was dead, and it was all Robert's fault.

Despite the warmth of the day, Robert shivered.

"Someone step on your grave?" Tess observed, sipping at her tea.

"Always hated that saying," Robert muttered, biting into a slice of toast with such ferocity that he almost nipped off the tip of one of his fingers.

They finished their breakfast and headed off to the Visitor's Center, to await the arrival of John Hammond and his long-anticipated guests.

 **a/n Another free hour = another chapter, hurrah! Much thanks to Theresa F and McCoyote, my fellow Bob Peck fans, for your lovely reviews, and also to everyone who has favourited/followed this fic. The next chapter will have Robert and Tess meeting Alan Grant and the others, dealing with work place politics, and trying to keep things running smoothly as the tour begins. There are only going to be 10 chapters, I think, so things will be moving along quickly from here. More to come soon, watch this space! _T L E x_  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**The Killing Moon**

 **Chapter Three**

Balancing a tray of coffee in one hand and holding a can of soda in the other, Tess bumped her hip against the door, forcing it open, and slipped into the control room. This was an essential part of the morning routine at Jurassic Park, the coffee run, and she had drawn the short straw today. Three cups of vending machine coffee, offensive to all five senses, and a can of soda; the usual.

She placed the tray upon the corner of Ray Arnold's desk, taking one of the styrofoam cups for herself, and held the soda out to Dennis Nedry, the park's main computer programmer, who was wrist-deep in a packet of Cheetos, his other hand poised over a mouse. He shrugged helplessly, indicating that his hands were already full. Tess shook her head, exasperated, and placed the can down, leaving it amongst the decaying detritus of empty wrappers which already littered the surface of his workstation.

"Jesus," Robert muttered, kicking at a previously discarded can. He picked it up and tossed it into a nearby wastepaper basket, scowling at Dennis, "What a fucking mess."

"He calls it breakfast, I call it a future heart attack," Ray said, rolling his eyes. He sipped his coffee, grimacing at the taste, "Shit, I know I say this every morning, but this stuff is _foul_."

Dennis ignored them, reaching for his soda. Fingers stained orange, he offered the Cheetos to Tess, "Want some?"

She shook her head, "No, thank you, I've already eaten."

He looked her up and down, cheeks bulging, mumbling around a mouthful of gummy bears as he turned away, spinning his chair around to face the computer screen once again, "Nah, best not, I guess. You're getting kinda porky, if you don't mind me saying."

Tess raised her eyebrows, but managed to bite back the caustic retort simmering upon the tip of her tongue. She sensed Robert moving to her side, could feel the sudden tension in the room and in his body, and she turned to grasp his arm, her eyes dark with silent reproach. For a moment, she thought he was going to pull away, to push her aside and plough his clenched fist into Dennis Nedry's plump face. She tightened her grip on him, murmured his name in a low voice, warning him against it, "Bobby. Bobby, _no_. Come on. Come outside." Robert tore his gaze away from Dennis, the muscles in his jaw working furiously, his face red with fury, his entire frame taut with the effort of holding himself back, for her sake.

"We're just popping out for a few minutes, Ray," Tess announced, her tone high and lively with false brightness. She coaxed Robert towards the door, still holding his arm, "Hold the fort, will you?"

Ray nodded tersely, his eyes darting up to meet hers, quietly gauging the situation. Turning his attention to Robert, he took a cigarette from the packet at his elbow and tapped the butt lightly against one of the computer screens, "I'll keep an eye on the weather report for you, man. Get some air, clear your head."

Robert uncurled his fists and tugged his arm free of Tess's grasp, his voice hoarse, "Sure."

"Hey, get me another can of soda on your way back in, will you?" Dennis called after them, his eyes still glued to the screen in front of him. Tess ignored the request, but Robert shot him a venomous glance, which went completely unnoticed, and muttered an obscenity under his breath as they left the room.

They did not speak until they were outside, standing upon the stone steps of the Visitor's Center, squinting in the sunlight. Tess took two cigarettes out of the breast pocket of her uniform jacket, holding them both between her lips to light them with her cheap Clipper, and held one out to Robert. He was tempted to refuse it, frowning into the distance like a sulky teenager, but he still took it anyway, just to humour her, and to take the edge off his foul mood. Rage swirled though him like a sandstorm, hot and relentless. He was angry with Dennis, furious at the man's hypocrisy and rudeness, but he was also angry with himself for almost losing control, and with Tess for holding him back, even though he knew she had been right to do so.

Inhaling deeply, Robert held the smoke in his lungs and mouth for a long moment before releasing it, watching it rise in a grey plume before him, slowly fading to nothing. Smiling sardonically, he waved the acrid remnants away and flicked the spent cigarette to his feet, grinding it to ashes beneath the toe of his boot, "Fresh air indeed!"

Tess clicked her tongue, stooping to retrieve the discarded filter, "You'll be in deep shit, if John sees that." She pocketed it, grimacing, and turned to Robert, "Feel better?"

"Not really."

"Listen, I know you're not feeling yourself today, Bobby. You're nervous about the visit and you didn't get much sleep last night, I get it, really I do, but beating Dennis to a pulp is not going to help, not at all."

"I have to disagree," Robert replied, "I find the thought of introducing that slob to my fists to be quite relaxing, actually, and infinitely more so than a cigarette." He flexed his fingers meaningfully, watching Tess's reaction with hooded eyes, "Besides, he should learn to keep a civil tongue, or to keep his mouth shut if he can't manage that, and I would fucking relish the opportunity to teach him that lesson, believe me."

"I can fight my own battles, Bobby," Tess said, "I don't need you to rescue me."

"And I don't need you to make decisions on my behalf, Tess. You shouldn't have held me back from him." Robert frowned, searching for the right words, trying to get his point across without losing his temper again, "I'm not a naughty schoolboy to be scolded and sent from the room when I'm in the wrong."

"So you admit that you were in the wrong?"

"It would have been a stupid mistake, yes, I admit that, but you should have trusted me, Tess. You should have left me to work that out on my own." He stooped to tie his bootlace, which had come undone. Still kneeling, he looked up at Tess, his eyes serious, "Do you have any faith in me at all?"

Tess stared at him in disbelief, her pride wounded by the question, "How can you even ask me that, after all this time? I have the _utmost_ faith in you, Bobby, and you know it. I wouldn't be here if I didn't trust you."

Robert nodded, moving to put his arm around her shoulders. He was not an openly affectionate man, it was just not in his nature, but it felt good to hold her like this, it felt _right_ , and he could tell that she was pleased by it. Besides, he was ashamed of himself, suddenly, almost _painfully_ , because he knew that he had been unfair and that she was genuine, that she was a loyal and true friend, of course he did, and he knew how much she had been hurt by his words.

"Am I forgiven?"

Tess shrugged, "I suppose so." She was fighting back a smile, her lips twitching at the corners.

"You're a diamond," Robert murmured, ruffling her hair. Protesting loudly, Tess pulled away from his rough attentions and swiped at him, but her blows were light, half-hearted, and he easily evaded her, laughing as he escaped into the coolness of the Visitor's Center. She followed, racing him up the staircase, pushing and shoving, exchanging friendly insults as they made their way back to the control room, like boisterous children at play. Dennis glanced up expectantly, his face sagging into an expression of sullen disappointment when he realised that his request for soda had been ignored, but Ray interrupted his complaints with a morose observation.

"They're here."

Robert's heart sank. The atmosphere in the room shifted, as though Ray had announced the death of a close friend. Even Dennis was compelled to leave his workstation, moving to stand beside Robert and Tess, who were watching the main computer screen, squinting through a haze of smoke. Ray was a chain smoker. Hands shaking, even more so than usual, he lit another cigarette and nodded at the screen, glancing over his spectacles at his three colleagues to appraise their reactions. They were just as nervous as he was, by the look of them. It was somewhat heartening to know that he was not alone in this feeling. Robert was positively green, the vein at his temple pulsing insistently as he leaned over Ray's shoulder, frowning at the images on the screen.

The surveillance camera feed now showed a cluster of small figures disembarking from an InGen helicopter, bending low to avoid the whirring blades of the chopper as they were ushered into two gas jeeps.

John Hammond and his long-awaited guests had arrived, at last.

Even at the best of times, Robert found the control room a stifling and stressful environment, and this was certainly _not_ the best of times, not in his opinion. He felt sick, his stomach was roiling as though he was on a rollercoaster, and he just knew that he would drive himself mad if he had to stay much longer, staring at the screen, watching and waiting for something to go wrong, anticipating the worst, as always.

"Let's get back to work." He nudged Tess, who dragged her gaze away from the camera footage, blinking as her eyes struggled to readjust to the gloominess of the control room after being focused upon the bright screens. She stretched, yawning into the back of her hand, and followed him out.

"I'll catch you guys later, yeah?" Ray called after them, chuckling as Tess shot him a smile and a thumbs-up through the glass pane of the door. She hurried along the corridor and back down the staircase, almost sprinting to keep up with Robert's long strides.

They spent the next two hours following up on security checks around the Visitor's Center and the raptor enclosure, before separating around 10am to complete one last sweep of the park, Tess driving one of the gas jeeps to the south whilst Robert headed off north in a second vehicle. After driving around for an hour or so without incident, Robert reached the Tyrannosaurus paddock and pulled over, parking behind one of the park's numerous public restroom huts. Fanning himself with his hat, he turned on the radio and switched frequencies until he picked up Tess's channel. She was already on her way back to Visitor's Center, driving along the main service road. They spoke briefly to confirm that all was well, before arranging to meet at the raptor enclosure to oversee the feeding. Robert signed off, sighing heavily. He was cold, almost shivering, despite the heat and humidity of the morning. It was as though a dark shadow had settled over him, chilling him to the bone. A feeling of immense dread and impending horror was rising beneath his ribs and he was reluctant to return to the Visitor's Center, reluctant to stay on this accursed island at all. Suddenly, he had the urge to run, to _escape_ , a primal desperation, like that of a rat caught in a trap. He wanted to drive, and keep on driving, far away from here. He could do it, he _could_ , just drive away from here, drive to the east dock, catch the next ferry to the mainland, never look back...

He was so deeply lost in these thoughts that he almost jumped out of his skin when Ray's voice crackled over the radio, "John's here. He's taking the group over to view the raptors, once they're finished touring the Visitor's Center and the labs."

Robert glanced at his wristwatch. 11:30am. He groaned, "Just in time for the midday feed. Jesus."

"Yeah, I know," Ray snorted, "If that doesn't put them off their lunch, nothing will."

"I'm heading back now, see you in a little while."

"I don't think John wants you there. Thinks you'll scare them off, I guess."

Robert chuckled, "Too bad." He turned the radio off, started the jeep up. Behind him, somewhere in the thick foliage of the paddock, the T-Rex roared a challenge, responding to the hum of the engine. Robert shivered again, cursing himself, and jammed his foot down on the accelerator, speeding away from the deafening clamour.

Tess was waiting for him at the raptor enclosure, watching as two of the park's livestock handlers strapped a steer into the feeding apparatus, securing the harness as the beast stood patiently, docile and unsuspecting.

"My favourite part of the job," Robert observed grimly.

Tess stroked the animal's muzzle, "Raptors need to eat too, Bobby." She sighed, stepping away as the apparatus began to rise into the air, lifting the steer over their heads, "I just wish we didn't have to feed them like this."

"Rather this poor chap than you or me," Robert replied darkly. The animal was dangling in midair now, grunting discontentedly as it was lowered into the depths of the enclosure, "It's safer this way, you know that." Below them, in the pen, the bushes began to rustle and sway violently as the raptors sensed the arrival of their prey. Tess closed her eyes. Chirruping and hooting excitedly to one another, the raptors swarmed around the feeding apparatus like deadly locusts, and suddenly there was chaos, a bloodbath, a hellish cacophony as they descended upon the steer in force, drowning out its panicked death moans with triumphant screeches as they began to feast.

"They should all be destroyed."

Tess opened her eyes at the sound of Robert's voice. He had moved away to address a small group of people who had suddenly appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, to congregate on the far side of the viewing platform. She went to join them, smiling radiantly, fighting the familiar churning sensation in her gut. Although she had a strong stomach, she always felt more than a little sick after witnessing a feeding.

"Ah, Tess, my dear girl! How are you?" John Hammond stepped forward to greet her, resplendent in a pristine white suit and panama hat, shaking her hand warmly. Tess was extremely fond of him, despite his faults. He was an amiable and generous man, with the energy and enthusiasm of a small child, and the kindly face of everyone's favourite grandfather.

"This is Tess Hopkirk, Robert's assistant and our junior game warden. See, Donald, _two_ game wardens, both highly experienced and armed to the teeth - spared no expense! They will be all too happy to answer any questions you might have for them, and put your mind to rest in regards to the safety issues, I hope! Now, where was I? Oh yes, introductions...this is Dr Alan Grant, over here we have Dr Ellie Sattler, and this gentleman here is Donald Gennaro. Oh, and that's Dr Ian Malcolm, don't worry about him, he always talks like that..."

John introduced her to the group, who seemed a pleasant lot - even the lawyer was polite, although there was a greedy glint in his eyes which Tess did not care for, not in the slightest. Dr Grant was in his element, asking dozens of questions and listening intently to the answers. He was wary too though, not so overawed that he forgot the reason for this visit. Dr Sattler was similarly cautious, watching the raptors with an expression of mingled fear, respect and wonder. Dr Malcolm maintained a casual air throughout it all, lounging against the barrier like a jaded rockstar. Although the feeding had undoubtedly shaken him, he masked his discomfort well, favouring Tess with a toothy grin and openly admiring her figure, along with Dr Sattler's shapely legs.

John's eyes darted nervously over to Robert, who was deep in conversation with Dr Grant, obviously discussing the raptors. Tess smiled as she caught snatches of the exchange; Robert could not help himself, he was ever the thorn in John's side, the voice of reason in the midst of a fairytale.

"They're lethal at eight months, and I do mean lethal...cheetah speed, fifty or sixty miles per hour, if they ever got out in the open...and they're astonishing jumpers."

John interrupted them, his tone dismissive and impatient, "Yes, yes, yes, which is why we take extreme precautions." He smiled reassuringly at Dr Sattler. She was peering nervously into the enclosure, as though she expected one of the raptors to leap out and attack them, "Now now, don't let him frighten you. Robert does tend to catastrophise, he's a terrible alarmist, as I told you before. He has a lot in common with Dr Malcolm, I'm afraid. You're in safe hands, I assure you. Isn't that right, Tess?"

Tess nodded, "Of course, John. Public safety is our primary concern here, Dr Sattler, you needn't fret about that." She smiled and Sattler seemed to relax a little, temporarily placated by Tess's easy manner, much to John's visible relief.

"Do they show intelligence?" Grant was asking Robert, his broad features animated and glowing with excitement.

"They show extreme intelligence, even problem solving. Especially the Big One. We bred eight originally, but when she came in, she took over the pride and killed all but two of the others. That one..." He paused, frowning, and Tess could tell that he was thinking about Jophrey Brown. He shrugged, reaching up to scratch his chin, "When she looks at you, you can see she's working things out. That's the reason we have to feed 'em like this. She had them all attacking the fences when the feeders came."

Sattler looked concerned, "But the fences _are_ electrified, right?"

Robert inclined his head, "That's right, but they never attack the same place twice. They were testing the fences for weaknesses. Systematically. They remembered."

With a harsh metallic squeal, the feeding apparatus began to rise slowly from the raptor pen behind them, creaking and jerking, the harness torn to shreds, stained with blood and gore. Tess chanced a sidelong glance at Robert, who smirked back at her, finding bitter solace in the horrified expressions of the guests.

"Well now, who's hungry?" John said brightly, clapping his hands together and turning away from the gruesome sight. He ushered the group down from the viewing platform, loudly extolling the virtues of Chef Alejandro and his delicious Chilean seabass. Robert and Tess watched them go, noting the instability of Donald Gennaro's legs with some amusement, before making their way back to the control room to have lunch with Ray.

"What did you make of the guinea pigs?" Ray asked, disdaining the sandwiches on offer in favour of coffee and cigarettes.

Tess shrugged, "Nice, I guess. Excited. Like kids at Christmas."

 _Lambs to the slaughter,_ Robert thought uneasily.

He pushed the image aside with grim determination, lounging back in his chair, "I don't think they're going to be as easy to get around as John hoped they'd be. Dr Grant was supposed to be his ace in the hole, but he seemed nervous when I spoke with him. Excited, yes, but conflicted too, I think."

Ray nodded, "And that Malcolm guy, he's completely against the whole idea, isn't he? Thinks John's messing with the laws of nature, or something..."

"Chaos theory," Tess said, stirring her tea with a plastic spoon, "Everything that could go wrong, will go wrong, with a little encouragement from the human race."

"It's possible that Ian Malcolm is the sanest man on this island," Robert chuckled, "Aside from myself, of course."

They were crowded around Ray's workstation, watching the group separate into two of the electric tour jeeps which had arrived at the Visitor's Center. John's two grandchildren, Lex and Tim, had joined the party earlier and were hopping between the two cars, both seemingly eager to travel with Dr Grant, who was trying to evade them. Eventually, the children settled into the first jeep with the lawyer, Gennaro, whilst Grant, Sattler and Malcolm took the second. A few moments later, John returned to the control room, almost twinkling with nervous energy, like a demented magician. He hurried across the room to peer over Ray's shoulder at the screen, rubbing his hands together gleefully. Robert was on the telephone, checking for updates on the weather reports from yesterday.

"Right, got that." He replaced the receiver, frowning, "The storm is still coming on strong, I'm afraid. It's seventy five miles west, heading straight for us. I'll keep an eye on the reports, hopefully it'll swing south." John shot him a frantic glance, but Tess placed a soothing hand on the old man's shoulder, "The last one missed us, John. Maybe this one will too." He nodded, patting her hand gratefully, and turned back to Ray, who was waiting patiently for the go-ahead.

"Start the tour program."

Ray sighed, pressing a button on the console before him, "Hold onto your butts."

Tess slipped a hand into the back pocket of Robert's khaki shorts, winking at him as she gave his arse a light squeeze. He rolled his eyes, managing a strained smile for her sake, although his insides were writhing like a bag of snakes again. Outside the Visitor's Center, the cars began to move, starting forward with a jerk and a dull _thunk_ of gears, before proceeding smoothly along the electric track. John laughed, obviously relieved, and shook Ray's hand vigorously, "Oh, well done, well done everyone!"

"Don't thank me just yet," Ray said, but he was pleased all the same, allowing himself a rare smile as the cars rounded a bend and disappeared from sight. Another camera picked up their progress after a moment, and Ray activated the interior cameras and radio connection, so that John could monitor his guests and speak with them as the tour commenced.

The telephone buzzed again, and Robert picked it up, "Muldoon." He listened closely, occasionally punctuating the silence with an affirmative murmur. Tess kept her eyes on the computer screen, but she was also listening, ready to spring into action. Robert never gave anything away. He was as taciturn on the telephone as he was in the flesh, which could be frustrating for the people who were not party to the conversation. Finally, he pushed the telephone aside and turned to Tess, who was relieved to see that he did not seem troubled by the phone call.

"That was Gerry. I have to go up to the Triceratops paddock."

Gerry Harding was the park's chief veterinarian, a cheerful man in his early fifties. John glanced up from the screen, his face lined with worry, but Robert shook his head, "Nothing serious, I promise. He just needs me to tranquilise one of the trikes."

Over the past few months, several individuals in the herd had gone down with a strange illness of some sort, the symptoms of which seemed to occur every six weeks. They would become disoriented, often unable to stand or walk, and they struggled to breathe easily. The unidentified 'bug' had was apparently not fatal, as none of the dinosaurs had succumbed to it, not yet anyway, but it was still a cause for concern.

Tess pushed aside her tea, "Mind if I tag along?"

"Of course not," Robert smiled. He turned to John, who was talking with his grandchildren over the radio, "I'm going up there now, and Tess is coming with me." John nodded impatiently and waved him away, still speaking into the microphone, his gaze fixed on the computer screen. The cars were now moving slowly along the fenced perimeter of the Dilophosaurus paddock. Dr Grant and Dr Sattler had their faces pressed up against the window, eyes darting back and forth with rapid desperation, trying to catch a glimpse of the elusive dinosaur. Robert snorted, taking Tess by the elbow to hurry her out, "This shouldn't take long. Ray, call me if we're needed back here, or if you get any updates on that storm."

"Sure," Ray replied, lighting another cigarette.

The tour was officially underway, without error or incident thus far. Robert didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Taking a gas jeep from the garage, which was located beneath the Visitor's Center, they made a brief detour to collect a tranquiliser gun and a box of darts from the emergency bunker. Robert carefully stowed the equipment in the back of the vehicle and, whilst he was otherwise engaged, Tess usurped his place behind the wheel, revving the engine to catch his attention and grinning mischievously.

"I'm driving," Robert said sternly, mustering a straight face _._

"You _always_ get to drive. It's my turn," Tess insisted, affecting a childish whine.

"I'm the boss, ergo I decide whose turn it is to drive, and I say that it's _my_ turn. So there." He mimicked her immature tone, giving smug emphasis to the last two words, and stuck his tongue out, like a bratty kid.

"You're a bloody tyrant, do you know that?" Tess huffed, folding her arms across her chest. Robert raised an eyebrow, daring her to challenge his authority, and she conceded defeat, sliding back into the passenger seat with a chuckle.

They set off for the trike paddock in good spirits, despite the sudden greyness of the skies above Isla Nublar, and the faint rumble of thunder in the distance.

 **a/n Another chapter, I'm on a roll! Thanks for the kind reviews, and the favourites/follows etc, they are much appreciated. More to come soon, if time permits. _T L E x_**


	4. Chapter 4

**The Killing Moon**

 **Chapter Four  
**

The gas jeep rumbled along the service road and Robert drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, tapping out a cheerful rhythm, his spirits rising with every mile, lifted by the fine weather and Tess's company. They rounded a bend and took the jeep off-road, through the gates to the Triceratops paddock. A few moments passed before Tess spotted Gerry Harding, who was standing upon a mound of impacted dirt in the distance, waving them down.

"Where's the trike?" Tess hopped down from the jeep, pushing her sunglasses up as Gerry strolled over to meet them, a clipboard tucked under one arm. Robert climbed into the back of jeep and began to prepare the tranquiliser gun, slotting one dart into the chamber and pocketing another, just to be safe.

"She's just over that hill, near the treeline," Gerry said, pointing, "Third one this week, one of the worst cases we've had so far, I'd say."

Robert joined them, cradling the gun in the crook of his elbow, and they headed off to find the trike, following Gerry for about twenty five yards, until a deep grumbling sound stopped them in their tracks. Gerry pressed a finger to his lips, "There. You see her?"

The trike was alone, standing in the middle of the grassy plain, with her great head bowed to the ground, like that of a tired horse. She was swaying back and forth, pawing at the earth, snorting and snuffling in a disgruntled manner. After a moment, she lifted her head and started forward, bellowing loudly, and veered around in a tight circle, as though she was chasing her tail. She came to an abrupt halt, disorientated and wheezing, teetering where she stood, slashing the air with the horns which adorned her snout and the bony frill of her head.

Crouching low, Robert edged forward through the long grass, motioning for Gerry and Tess to stand back. He raised the gun to shoulder level, aiming down the barrel with quiet precision. The dart whistled through the air, striking the trike in the fleshy folds of her neck. The beast's skin was thick, like that of an elephant, but she still felt the irritating sting of the dart. Tossing her head, she roared and began to charge through the grass towards them. Robert moved quickly, pushing Gerry and Tess aside just as the enraged dinosaur blundered into the clearing. The sedative was already beginning to take effect. The trike was stumbling, blowing and puffing, her red eyes blinking stupidly. Rage already forgotten, she relapsed into a state of confusion, circling and pacing until she finally succumbed to the sedative and went down, going to her knees with a shallow groan.

They waited until she was completely under, hunkering down in the grass and hardly daring to breathe, until Robert gave the signal and pushed into the clearing, followed closely by Gerry and Tess. Moving cautiously, Gerry checked the trike's breathing, whilst Robert stooped to peer under her jaw, making certain that the dart had not been broken or dislodged.

"No closer to finding out what's causing this," Gerry muttered, frustrated, "I'm completely stumped, to be honest."

"You and me both," Robert shrugged, "Perhaps Dr Grant and Dr Sattler can shed some light on it."

Kneeling beside the trike's head, Tess chuckled, "Wouldn't hurt to ask them, after the tour. They are dinosaur experts, after all." She ran a gentle hand over the animal's frill, murmuring soothingly, as though the trike was a family pet, a sick tabby cat on its first visit to the veterinary clinic. Robert smiled up at her, their eyes meeting across the dinosaur's sloping head.

"She's beautiful," Tess said, dropping her eyes back to the trike, suddenly shy under his gaze. Her cheeks were pink, flushed with excitement, and she felt silly, like a foolish young girl again, fawning and simpering. She straightened, drawing away from the dinosaur, "I don't think I'll ever get over how beautiful they are."

"I know," Robert replied, his voice kind. He felt as though he had intruded on a private moment, caught her unawares, _exposed_ , and he was embarrassed. Tess was a tough woman, a proud woman who rarely let her guard down and hated to be seen as weak. _Vulnerable._ That word again, so at odds with the person he knew, and yet so right. She could be tender, she could be soft and sweet, but she was stubborn too, and reluctant to reveal the warmth beneath her cool exterior.

Gerry was monitoring the trike's symptoms, scribbling notes on his clipboard. Pushing thoughts of Tess from his mind for the moment, Robert removed the dart and got to his feet, waving to catch the vet's attention, "We'll be heading back now, if that's all. She should stay under for another half hour, but call me if you have trouble getting her up."

"Sure thing, Robert. Thanks."

Tess glanced up, still kneeling beside the dinosaur, "I think I'll stay, just for a little while longer. Is that alright?"

"Fine by me," Gerry said, smiling, "I'll run you back in my jeep."

Robert nodded, "I'll see you back at base. Stay safe, and stay out of trouble."

"You too!" Tess laughed, rolling her eyes.

Robert made it back to the control room just as the tour group were approaching the Tyrannosaurus enclosure. John and Dennis were arguing about money, yet again, and he hushed them irritably, pointing at the computer screen. In the jeeps, the guests shifted in their seats eagerly, watching closely for a glimpse of the mighty carnivore, but it soon became apparent that the T-Rex was not going to make an appearance anytime soon. Ray's fingers danced over the keyboard, bringing up a second window on the computer screen, which showed the location and movement of each individual dinosaur in the park. The red dot which represented the Rex was moving away from the perimeter fence, along the river, where she had previously been observed submerging her head under the water to catch fish in her jaws, on several occasions. Noting John's frustration, along with the disgruntled expressions of Dr Grant and the others, Ray spoke into the microphone, "We'll try to tempt the Rex out." He typed a command and, on the screen, a small platform appeared in the paddock, upon which stood a goat, tethered to a stake. Still, the Rex did not appear. She was still fishing, moving upstream, away from the tour road.

"The T-Rex doesn't want to be fed, it wants to hunt," Grant was saying, sounding disappointed, "You can't just suppress sixty five million years of gut instinct."

Robert agreed with Grant, although he was loath to say so, not with John present. The old man glowered thunderously, his expression darkening further when Dr Malcolm's face appeared onscreen, grinning into the camera.

"Now, eventually you do plan to have dinosaurs on your dinosaur tour, right? Hello?"

John sighed, turning away from the screen, "I really hate that man." He got to his feet, leaning heavily on his cane, and glanced around the room, "Where has Tess gone? I could have sworn she was here, a moment ago."

"She's still with Gerry and the trike," Robert replied, lounging back in his chair, with his hands clasped behind his head.

"Oh yes, I remember you saying so," John said, pressing a hand to his forehead, "I do hope these bouts of forgetfulness are down to stress, and not a sudden onset of senility."

Robert smiled reassuringly, "You're fine, John. Fighting fit at seventy six."

"I'm not getting any younger though, Robert, and neither are you," John chuckled, his eyes twinkling, "How old are you now, remind me? Forty five?"

"Forty eight," Robert said dryly.

"Forty eight," John mused, "Forty eight years old, unmarried and childless." He glanced at the computer screen, smiling as he watched his grandchildren squabbling in the back of the jeep they shared with Gennaro, "Children are the greatest joy in life, Robert. Find yourself a beautiful wife, my friend, and make beautiful children with her, and then perhaps I won't worry about you as much as I do."

Robert sighed, both annoyed and amused by this familiar conversation, "You sound like my mother, John."

"She wants grandchildren?"

"She already _has_ grandchildren, five of them. She wants me to be as miserable as my brother, and so do you, I think."

John laughed, "Well, even if you don't want children, surely you would like to meet someone? Or perhaps you already have..."

Robert arched an eyebrow, "Listen, if you're talking about Tess again, I've already told you that there's nothing going on between us. Absolutely _nothing_ , do you hear me?"

"She's a lovely girl, Robert, a _very_ lovely girl," John persisted, ignoring his game warden's loud protests, "She's very taken with you." He turned to Ray for support, but the technician only shook his head and laughed, holding both hands up, "I'm saying nothing, John. It's none of my business."

Suddenly, there was a commotion onscreen, as the jeeps approached the Triceratops paddock. The second jeep was missing a passenger. Grant had stepped out of the moving vehicle and was moving through the long grass, into the enclosure, and he was quickly followed by Sattler and Malcolm.

Robert was on his feet, his face taut with exasperation and horror, "There you are! I _told_ you! How many times did I tell you we needed locking mechanisms on the vehicle doors?"

"Stop the program," John said, but Ray was already on it, hunched over his keyboard, ordering an emergency stop on the jeeps so that they would not continue along the track without their passengers. Amidst the chaos, the phone began to ring, and Dennis Nedry picked up the receiver.

"Weather report," Dennis announced, holding the phone out to Robert, who snatched it out of his hand.

He listened to the report, trying not to grind his teeth, and replaced the receiver, smiling grimly, "That storm center hasn't dissipated or changed course. We're going to have to cut the tour short, I'm afraid. Pick it up again tomorrow, where we left off."

"Are you sure we have to?" John asked plaintively.

Sensing both Robert's anxiety and John's frustration, Ray placed a reassuring hand on the old man's shoulder, "It's not worth taking the chance, John. We need to get everyone back here, where they'll be safe if the storm hits us badly."

John nodded, obviously thinking of his grandchildren, "Bring them in, once they're back in the cars. Damn!"

Ray turned away to put out a call to the park's employees over the microphone, announcing the storm warning and the imminent departure of the last ferry to the mainland. Angered by John's irresponsibility and petulance, and feeling his patience waning, strained by the storm and the stray guests, Robert left the room, making his way along the corridor to the vending machines. Nursing a cup of foul coffee, he glanced out of the window, at the dark clouds gathering overhead, and cursed aloud.

What else could go wrong?

 _Anything and everything, a_ _ccording to chaos theory._

Robert Muldoon was starting to think like Ian Malcolm. It was not comforting.

 **a/n More to come soon! I'm really enjoying writing this, so I hope you're all enjoying reading it. Let me know! _T L E x_**


	5. Chapter 5

**The Killing Moon**

 **Chapter Five  
**

Meanwhile, back at the Triceratops paddock, Tess was relieving herself in the bushes, cursing the sparsity of public restrooms in this particular area of the park and trying desperately not to piss on her own feet. She was vaguely aware that she probably looked ridiculous and highly undignified, squatting in the grass with her shorts around her ankles, but the incomparable relief of an empty bladder far outweighed any shame she might have felt at being reduced to such drastic measures. Besides, it wasn't as though she hadn't done this before, and it probably wouldn't be the last time either, unfortunately.

Sighing, Tess dried herself with a tissue and pulled up her shorts, before heading back into the clearing, where Gerry was still examining the sedated trike. He glanced up, smiling, but he was discreet and made no comment, for which she was grateful. She stooped, kneeling in the dirt, and held Gerry's stethoscope over the trike's ribs, monitoring the animal's heartbeat.

"Her breathing is shallow, but steady enough. Heartbeat seems regular."

Gerry was making notes, "Good. Imagine if we lost her, today of all days. Jesus, I wouldn't want to be the one to have to tell John, would you?"

Tess pressed her hand over her heart, in mock terror, "I'd rather throw myself to the T-Rex."

"I don't think you'd have a choice. John would probably throw you into the enclosure himself, with his own two hands," Gerry chuckled, "He'd jump in right after you, of course, apologising and fending off the Rex with his cane."

As their laughter slowly died away, it was replaced by another sound, the sound of footsteps in the distance, moving towards them, and of many voices, some raised in alarm, others murmuring with an uneasy excitement. A few moments later, Dr Alan Grant emerged from the long grass, followed closely by the boy, Tim, whose mouth fell open in an _'O'_ of delight when he saw the stricken trike, lying the dust before him. Grant approached the dinosaur carefully, but without fear, his eyes glowing with childlike wonder. The others were not far behind, but unlike Grant and the boy, they held back, uncertain, until Gerry and Tess assured them that it was safe to enter the clearing.

Dr Sattler crouched by the trike's head, tearful and joyous, whilst Dr Malcolm circled the animal, shaking his head in awe and disbelief, stunned into silence for once. Donald Gennaro still lingered upon the edge of the grass verge, looking worried, and the girl, Lex, remained at his side for a moment, until she was convinced that the dinosaur posed no threat, and then she came forward, smiling tentatively. Grant placed his head upon the trike's flank, laughing as he was lifted off his feet by the rise and fall of her ribs, with each labourious breath.

"She was my favourite when I was a kid. Now I see her, she's the most beautiful thing I ever saw." His voice was soft, his hands were gentle upon the trike's leathery skin, and he gazed upon her with genuine love and respect in his eyes, as though he felt privileged to stand in the presence of this creature. Sattler smiled, and Tess saw the same look in her eyes, but it was for the man, for Dr Alan Grant, for his blue eyes and his sleepy smile and his uninhibited passion. _She loves him_ , Tess realised suddenly, and she found herself smiling too, caught up in their joy.

Sattler turned her attention back to the trike, noticing the weeping blisters upon the dinosaur's tongue. She squeezed one, grimacing at the clear liquid which oozed out onto her finger, "What are her symptoms?"

"Imbalance, disorientation, laboured breathing. It seems to happen every six weeks or so."

Gerry stood beside Sattler, handing her a penlight so that she could inspect the inside of the trike's mouth. Finding nothing out of the ordinary there, other than the blisters, she shone the light into the dinosaur's eyes, "These are dilated. See?"

"They are? Well, I'll be damned," Gerry removed his sunglasses, leaning in for a closer look, "Tess, look at this."

"Well, it's not a side effect from the tranquiliser," Tess said, moving to kneel at the trike's head, alongside Gerry and Sattler, "The sedative constricts the pupils, it doesn't dilate them. This is something else."

"It's pharmacological, I think," Sattler replied, "From local plant life." She got to her feet, glancing at the bushes, "Is this West Indian lilac?"

"Yeah," Gerry said, "We know they're toxic, but the animals don't eat them."

"Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure."

Sattler frowned, "Only one way to be positive. I'll have to see the dinosaur's droppings."

Malcolm had joined them, looking both amused and a little horrified at this sudden turn of events, staring at Sattler as though he could not quite believe what he was hearing, "Dino droppings?"

"Dino droppings," Tess confirmed, "Just count yourself lucky that we're not examining the Rex, Dr Malcolm. Trike droppings smell like lavender and roses compared to what _she_ leaves behind."

"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind," Malcolm said wryly, as they went in search of a suitable sample, leaving the two kids in Gennaro's care.

There was an impressive dung heap within a few feet of the bushes and Sattler plunged into the nearest mound without hesitation, wearing a pair of latex gloves which Gerry had provided. She groped around in the dung for several minutes, buried to the elbow, tossing her head to disperse the flies which buzzed around her in an irritatingly insistent cloud, having been disturbed by the intrusion.

Malcolm approached, removing his sunglasses, and surveyed the scene with a nonchalant smile, "Now that is one big pile of shit." Sattler withdrew from the dung heap, seemingly defeated, and began to walk away, back to the clearing, the soiled gloves dangling loosely in her hand. Malcolm shook his head, "You will remember to wash your hands before you eat anything?"

Tess fell into step with Sattler, with Gerry, Grant and Malcolm close behind, deep in conversation, "What do you think?"

"The lilac plant," Sattler said, "I couldn't find any trace of it, but I've seen this kind of thing before. The same symptoms, I mean. I just can't work out how the trike has been affected so badly without ingesting the plant."

They entered the clearing just as a sudden _boom_ of thunder rumbled overhead, startling Gennaro. He stepped out of the grass, where he had been standing for the last ten minutes, and waved them over, "Doctors, if you please, I have to insist that we get moving."

Sattler was kneeling by the trike once again, "Oh, you know, if it's alright, I'd like to stay here and finish up with the trike." She glanced at Gerry and Tess, "If that's okay?"

"I have to catch the last boat to the mainland in about half an hour, but I can drop you off at the Visitor's Center with Tess before I leave. I'm in a gas jeep."

"Great," Sattler smiled, "I'll catch up with you later, Alan."

"You sure?" Grant asked, raising his eyes to the darkening sky.

"Yeah, I just want to stay with her for a little longer." She placed her hand upon one of the trike's forelegs, stroking the animal's skin in an almost maternal fashion. Grant nodded, turning away to follow the others into the long grass, back to the electric jeeps on the tour road. It was beginning to rain, just a light shower, fragrant and warm, but the thunder overhead was relentless now, and the grey and purple skies held the promise of one hell of a storm to come. Gerry excused himself, "I'm gonna call John on the jeep radio and let him know that you're safe with us, Dr Sattler." He moved off into the grass, still scribbling on his clipboard.

Sattler turned to Tess, who was standing over the trike, "You don't mind me tagging along? I just really want to work this out."

Tess smiled, "Not at all. We were hoping that either you or Dr Grant would have some theories actually, because we're completely baffled by it, to tell you the truth."

"So am I, unfortunately," Sattler chuckled, "It's something to do with the lilac, I _know_ it is, but that's all I've got."

Tess nodded, "I think so too, but Gerry seems pretty certain that the trikes don't eat those plants."

"He's right. There was nothing to suggest it, not in the droppings anyway," Sattler said, frowning, "Unless..."

Suddenly, the trike snorted noisily and began to move, her entire body tense and twitching, the muscles shifting beneath the leathery skin. The effects of the sedative were waning fast, and the dinosaur was coming round, her eyes rolling their sockets, struggling to focus. Tess grasped Sattler's elbow, pulling her away into the grass without a word. The trike lurched to her feet, bewildered and unsteady, but fully conscious now, and more dangerous than ever. She stood there, swaying on the spot, and then she began to cough and grunt, opening her mouth wide and spluttering loudly, until she vomited something upon the ground between her forelegs. Breathing hard, she lowered her head to sniff at the dirt for a moment, before abruptly trundling away, seemingly none the worse for any of it. The last they saw of the beast was her tail, swishing back and forth, cutting a path through the grass, like a scythe.

Tess stepped back into the clearing, keeping a wary eye on the swathe of trampled grass. Sattler followed, moving immediately to examine whatever it was that the trike had vomited up. She stooped, grimacing at the puddle of yellow bile and phlegm, but she did not shy away, nor did she hesitate to feel through the mess with her fingers, even without the luxury of latex gloves this time.

"Aha!"

Sattler's voice was triumphant.

"What is it?"

Grinning, Sattler tossed something to Tess, who had to stretch to catch it before it could sail over her head to be lost in the long grass. It was a stone, a _pebble_ , perfectly smooth, and small enough to fit in the palm of her hand. Tess frowning, closing her fingers over it, "I don't understand."

"Gizzard stones," Sattler replied, her eyes gleaming, "The trikes don't have teeth. They swallow the stones, it helps them to grind up their food."

"Oh, I see!" Tess said excitedly, "Just like birds!"

Sattler nodded, " _Exactly_ like birds! The stones become too smooth to be useful and can't be digested, so they are regurgitated. I saw some of those stones scattered around the lilac plants, and I'll bet that's how the trikes are getting sick. They're swallowing the berries along with the stones and then vomiting both the stones and berries back up, every six weeks or so. Remind me, how often did Gerry say it happens, this unexplained sickness amongst the trikes?"

Tess grinned, "Just about every six weeks." She tossed the stone back to Sattler, who plucked it out of the air like a baseball and adopted a jubilant pose, flexing her muscles, before collapsing into a fit of giggles, embarrassed and exhilarated. It was infectious and Tess began to laugh too, deciding that she liked Dr Ellie Sattler.

A few moments later, Gerry returned to the clearing, apologising for his absence, "They're going crazy back at base. I think we'd better pack up and get back there, just as soon as the trike is awake." He paused and glanced around, looking confused, "Where is she?"

Tess smiled, "Back on her feet and off to find the rest of the herd, I expect."

"Good," Gerry said, looking relieved, "Come on, it's getting late."

As they headed back to the Visitor's Center in the gas jeep, Sattler told Gerry about her discovery, showing him the stone, which she had pocketed before leaving the Triceratops paddock. Gerry was an expert on avian care, having worked in that capacity at San Diego Zoo before joining the team at Jurassic Park, and he knew all about the use of gizzard stones.

"So _that's_ it!" He sounded convinced and impressed by the theory, "We'll get rid of the lilac plants next week, and hopefully that will be that. One less thing to worry about!"

* * *

In the control room, Ray was monitoring the progression of the jeeps along the tour road, "They're coming back to the garage."

John seemed quite calm now, after his earlier tantrum, but he still looked disappointed, "So much for our first tour. Two no-shows and one sick Triceratops."

Ray lit a cigarette, "It could have been worse, John. It could have been a lot worse."

Robert nodded, fidgeting in his seat, "If they're not back in the next half hour, I'll go out after them."

On the other side of the room, Dennis stood up, brushing crumbs from his shirt. He had been uncharacteristically quiet for the past two hours, but now he launched into a rambling monologue, barely pausing for breath, "Anybody want a soda? You know I figured that I was going to stop by the snack machines, since I had just something salty and I thought I would get something sweet and since I was up there..."

John, Ray and Robert looked up in unison, all shaking their heads, and Dennis trailed off lamely, before starting up again, "I finished debugging the programs but there were some errors." He was sweating profusely and he was looking at his own shoes, avoiding Ray's questioning eyes, "So for the next ten or fifteen minutes some power might shut down, but its only temporary, nothing to worry about."

Ray waved him away, "I'm sure I can handle it."

Dennis smiled and turned away, gathering up a few things from his cluttered desk. He left the room and Ray rolled his eyes at Robert, who shrugged, his mind still on the storm. He could hear the rain, heavy and relentless now, and it made him feel uneasy.

"That's odd."

Robert opened his eyes, roused by the sudden agitation in Ray's voice.

"What?"

"The door security systems are shutting down," Ray replied, pointing at the computer screen.

John did not seem overly concerned, "Well, Nedry said a few systems would go off-line, didn't he?"

"Yeah," Ray said, sounding unconvinced, "Yeah, I guess so. Where the hell is he, anyway?"

Robert stretched, wincing as his joints popped and whined, "Vending machines, I think."

"Taking his sweet time about it," Ray grumbled, grinding out his cigarette into the ashtray at his elbow.

They fell silent again. It was an uncomfortable silence. Ray tapped away at his keyboard, chain smoking, and John paced the room, muttering to himself. _It's as though we are all waiting,_ Robert thought, _Waiting for something to happen. Waiting for something to go horribly wrong._ But nothing had gone wrong, not really, despite his doubts, despite the storm and the disappointment of the first tour. Everything was fine, and it would be better than fine soon, once the guests and Tess were back at the Visitor's Center, safe and sound.

He sighed, closing his eyes again, and allowed himself to relax, just a little, lounging back in his seat.

"Woah, woah, woah!" Ray was on his feet, his fingers flying over the keyboard, staring at the computer screen with an expression of helplessness and horror, "What the hell? Shit!"

 _Should have known that it was too good to last,_ Robert thought.

"What now?" John sounded exasperated, moving across the room to peer at the screen.

"Fences are failing all over the park, I can't stop it," Ray said, "A few minor systems, my ass!"

Robert's mouth was dry, his heart was in his mouth, but he schooled his features into a blank mask, hard and inscrutable. _Fear is the true enemy, never let them see that you're afraid._ He lived by that mantra, and it had served him well, giving him the upper hand over man and beast alike, when they would have torn him apart had they sensed any sign of weakness in him.

"Find Nedry," John ordered, "Check the vending machines!"

Robert nodded curtly and left the room, moving quietly along the dark corridor, hoping that Dennis Nedry had just taken a short detour on his way back from the vending machines. Perhaps he was using the restroom or, more likely, he was taking a nap in one of the vacant offices, shirking his responsibilities yet again.

The vending machines on this level were completely unattended. There was no sign of Dennis anywhere. He was not in the restrooms either, nor was he napping in any of the offices. Robert took the stairs down to the lobby two at a time, calling the man's name, feeling increasingly aggravated and disturbed as it slowly became apparent that Dennis Nedry was not in the Visitor's Center at all.

"Well, _where_ the _fuck_ is he, then?"

Robert was grinding his teeth again. It was a fairly recent habit and he could not remember ever having done it before, not before he came to work at Jurassic Park anyway. Isla Nublar was not good for his teeth. He would have none left if he stayed here much longer.

* * *

Outside, Tess and Sattler ran up the steps to the Visitor's Center, skidding and slipping upon the rain-slicked marble. They paused at the top, laughing breathlessly, and waved to Gerry as he turned the jeep around, heading off to catch the last ferry to the mainland.

Tess pushed the door open and almost walked straight into Robert. He caught her by the shoulders, looking relieved, "Christ, I'm glad to see you! Both of you!" He hugged her tightly for a moment before drawing away, holding her at arm's length. His smile faded, relief giving way to anger, his blue eyes dark and steely, "What did you think you were doing back there, letting the guests wander around in the paddock? You should have escorted them straight back to the jeeps."

Tess flared immediately, "Well, they're back in the jeeps now, aren't they? What difference does it make?"

Sattler stepped in, her voice tactfully pleasant, "Tess was very professional, Mr Muldoon."

Tess nodded, "We know what's wrong with the trikes too, thanks to Dr Sattler. They've been ingesting toxic berries from the West Indian lilac plants and-"

Robert interrupted, making an impatient gesture with his hands, "Listen, we can talk about this later, but right now we've got bigger fish to fry, I'm afraid." He ushered the two women into the lobby and up the staircase, "Dennis was debugging the system, only he managed to cock it up somehow, the idiot. The electric fences and security systems have shutdown, gone offline or something, I don't know. Ray can't fix it, we need Dennis, but he's gone missing. I can't find him anywhere."

Tess frowned, "He passed us on the road, about five minutes ago. He was in a gas jeep, heading east. We slowed down, thinking something was wrong, but Dennis just kept going. I waved at him, but he didn't even look at me."

"Shit," Robert muttered, "Shit." He couldn't seem to say anything else. His fists were clenched and his face was taut, his jaw rigid, the muscles working furiously beneath the skin. Tess curled her fingers around his wrist, as she had in the control room earlier that same day, trying to steady him. He flinched, startled by her touch, but he didn't shake her off this time. Behind them, Sattler paused, her eyes wide with sudden horror, "Alan's still out there. Alan and Ian, and Gennaro and...and the kids...oh, _shit_ , the _kids_ are out there."

"They'll be fine, Dr Sattler," Robert assured her, trying to maintain an air of confident authority. Tess caught his eye, her face pale and questioning, and he shook his head, warning her to keep quiet, at least until they were out of earshot. He knew exactly what she was thinking, because he was thinking it too.

 _They'll be fine, just as long as the dinosaurs don't figure out that the electric fences are down._

Another thought, this one almost unbearable.

 _Are the raptor fences down too?_

He quickened his pace, leaving Tess and Sattler behind, and almost sprinted along the corridor to the control room.

 **a/n Thought I'd suggest a few songs to accompany the story. I don't usually do this, because I often begin chapters with song lyrics anyway, but seeing as I haven't gone down that route with 'The Killing Moon', I decided to compile a list of some of the songs I've had on in the background during my time writing this fic. They're a real mixed bag, as my taste in music is as eclectic as my taste in everything else, but hopefully there's a little something for everyone here. Enjoy, and please let me know how I'm doing with this! _T L E x_**

 ** _'Lean On'_ by Major Lazar and DJ Snake [feat. MØ]  
 _'The Scientist'_ by Coldplay  
 _'No One's Here to Sleep'_ by Naught Boy [feat. Bastille]  
 _'Pompeii'_ by Bastille  
 _'Wicked Game'_ by Chris Issak  
 _'Blood Sport'_ by Raleigh Ritchie  
 _'Clear the Area'_ by Imogen Heap  
 _'The Walk'_ by Imogen Heap  
 _'For Reasons Unknown'_ by The Killers  
 _'Eyes Wide Open'_ by Gotye  
 _'Moondust'_ by Jaymes Young  
 _'Don't Fear the Reaper'_ by Blue Oyster Cult  
 _'Ain't Nobody'_ by Chaka Khan  
 _'Human Touch'_ by Bruce Springsteen  
 _'Ghosts'_ by Laura Marling  
 _'Books from Boxes'_ by Maximo Park  
 _'Howl'_ by Florence and the Machine  
 _'The Dog Days are Over'_ by Florence and the Machine  
 _'Don't Dream it's Over'_ by Crowded House  
 _'The Lucky Ones'_ by Lana del Rey  
 _'Been Better'_ by Kyla la Grange  
 _'Hang On to Yourself'_ by David Bowie  
 _'Your Armor'_ by Charlotte Martin  
 _'Le Chrome et Le Coton'_ by Jérôme Echenoz [feat. Anna Jean and Louis Aguilar]**

 **...and, of course, _'The Killing Moon'_ by Echo and the Bunnymen. **


	6. Chapter 6

**The Killing Moon**

 **Chapter Six**

The raptor fences were secure, much to Robert's relief, but everything else was down, including the radio and video connections to the tour jeeps, severing contact between the visitors and the control room.

"God, look at this workstation!" Ray swept the mess of discarded soda cans and candy wrappers from Dennis Nedry's desk, hovering over the keyboard with the air of an anxious mother hen. He tapped at the keys, seemingly oblivious to the cigarette burning down to nothing between his lips, "Access main program grid..."

Suddenly, music began to play over the speakers, an irritating jingle, and another window popped up on the screen before him. A crude animation appeared, a cartoon with Dennis Nedry's face and voice, waggling its finger in smug disapproval, "Ah ah ah! You didn't say the magic word!" Robert, John, Tess and Ellie Sattler crowded around the terminal, dumbstruck, exchanging nervous glances as Ray pounded upon the keyboard, to little effect. The cartoon continued to jeer at them, repeating its mocking chant until Ray snapped, shouting at the screen, his voice almost shrill with frustration and outrage, "Please! _Goddamn!_ I _hate_ this hacker crap!"

John picked up the phone, handing the receiver to Ray, "Call Nedry's people in Cambridge."

Ray punched in the number, but he replaced the receiver after a few moments, frowning up at John, "Phone's are out too."

"Where did the vehicles stop?"

Robert and Tess glanced at each other, neither wanting to give voice to the dread rising between them, because they both knew where the jeeps had been headed before the power cut.

"The Rex paddock," Robert said, finally, "They were coming back along the tour road, towards the Rex paddock." His mouth was dry, his voice hoarse, and he could see his own horror reflected in John's face, but he forced himself to continue, if only for the old man's sake, "I might be wrong though, they could be anywhere."

It was a false note, ringing hollow in the silent room, and John shook his head, "You're right, unfortunately." He turned away, leaning heavily upon his cane, "Besides, even if you _were_ wrong, I think it's best to assume the worst in this situation, don't you? If anything happens to those people... _to my grandchildren_...I will kill Dennis Nedry. I will _kill_ him."

 _I'll hold him down for you,_ Robert thought, _I might even do the job myself._

Ray was still hunched over Nedry's computer, staring at an unfathomable jumble of letters and numbers upon the screen. Commands, or so Robert supposed. He had never been any good at this kind of thing, but Ray seemed to understand at least some of it, as did Ellie Sattler, who was nodding intently as the technician attempted to explain his latest findings.

"I ran a key check on every stroke Nedry entered today. It's all pretty standard stuff, until this one. You see it? He's turning the safety systems off. He doesn't want anyone to see what he's about to do. Now, look at this next entry, here's the kicker. Whatever it did, it did it all, but with key checks off, the computer didn't file the keystrokes. So, the only way to find them now is to search the computer's lines of code, one by one."

Sattler seemed doubtful, "How many lines of codes are there?"

Ray shrugged the stiffness from his shoulders, lighting another cigarette, "About two million."

"Two million," Sattler repeated, crestfallen, "That'll take all night."

John's knuckles were white, gripping the amber topper of his cane as though it was the only thing keeping him sane. He turned to Robert with a tight smile, his voice quiet and wavering, "Robert, I wonder if you would be good enough to take a gas jeep and bring back my grandchildren."

Robert nodded, "Sure."

"I'm going with him," Sattler announced suddenly, "Alan's out there."

Taking a yellow raincoat from the emergency supply closet, Robert handed another to Sattler, who smiled gratefully and shrugged it over her pink shirt. Tess moved to follow them, already reaching for her own coat, but Robert pulled her aside, shaking his head, "Stay here."

"I'm coming with you," Tess insisted, "You need me."

"Yes, I do. I need you _here_ , I need you to keep an eye on things and look after John for me. Can you do that?"

She hesitated, wanting to refuse him, but he was right, of course. John was in a bad place, fretting over the kids and the park, powerless to protect them, or to prevent his dream from collapsing into a nightmare. She _couldn't_ abandon him.

"I'll stay."

Robert smiled, "Thank you." He fumbled with the bunch of keys at his belt, removing one, which he pressed into Tess's hand. It was the key to the gun locker, the _only_ key, which he kept on his person at all times, "You know what to do, if the worst should happen. Look after John and Ray. Get them out of here, if you can."

Tess nodded, "I'll keep them safe, I promise."

"That's my girl."

She wasn't finished, "You have to make me a promise too, Bobby. You have to promise that you'll come back."

Robert almost laughed at that, but her eyes were serious, quietly pleading with him, so he took her hand instead and squeezed it tightly, "I'll come back, I promise. Even if I have to cut my way out of the Rex's stomach with my penknife. I'll come back."

Tess made a reproachful sound, nudging him with her shoulder, but she was smiling.

 _She has a beautiful smile._

The thought was almost painful, like a sudden punch in the guts. Without thinking, Robert put his arms around Tess's waist, drawing her close, and pressed a light kiss to her forehead. She blinked up at him, pleasantly surprised, but he turned away abruptly, before she could say a word, and followed Sattler out of the control room.

Tess was dazed for a moment, wide-eyed and speechless, but Ray's voice brought her back to reality with an unpleasant jolt.

"John, I can't get Jurassic Park back online without Dennis Nedry."

* * *

The tires of the gas jeep skidded and screeched through the mud, the headlights glowing like beacons in the rain-streaked gloom. Robert put his foot down hard on the accelerator, taking a corner so sharply that Sattler was thrown against him.

"Take it easy," Sattler cautioned, but she was straining against her seatbelt, her face taut with impatience and nervous energy. She squinted into the darkness, "How much longer?"

"No more than ten minutes," Robert said, grappling with the steering wheel. He was going as fast as he dared, but the road just seemed to stretch on forever, and he refused to speculate upon what might await them at the end of it, even to himself. If his worst fears were confirmed, if the Rex had escaped just as the jeeps rolled past her paddock... _oh, the kids_...they were so _small_ , so utterly defenseless. They wouldn't stand a chance against the Rex. There would be nothing left of them, although perhaps that was a mercy. Not for the kids, of course, but for Sattler, and for John.

During his years in Africa, Robert had witnessed the aftermath of predatory attacks upon humans for himself, on several occasions. A baboon had bitten through a small girl's skull in a nearby village. The child's father had startled the animal, who escaped through the window, leaving the corpse behind. A pack of wild dogs had taken a young man, brazenly attacking him in the middle of the afternoon. There had been blood upon the ground, and shreds of his clothing, and then one of Robert's rangers had found an ear and a clutch of fingers on a dismembered hand, curled up like a dead spider. It was easier when there was nothing left. Hyenas and leopards could be counted upon to leave nothing behind, and that was a little easier than having to gather up the gory remains and present them to the victim's grief-stricken family. Robert could not bear the thought of Sattler having to see something like that tonight. Her beloved Alan, torn to pieces, or those poor kids...

And what about John? The old man would go mad, if Robert returned without his grandchildren.

 _Or if I do bring them back_ , Robert thought grimly, _Just not_ all _of them. Just what's left.  
_

No, he would not think of it, not if he wanted to keep his sanity. He tried to think positively instead, something which did not come naturally to him, unfortunately.

 _The kids are fine, Dr Grant and Dr Malcolm and the fucking lawyer are fine, just_ fine, _and we'll pick them up and get them back to the Visitor's Center. Ray will fix the system, the phone's will come back, we'll all get the hell off this bloody island and I'll find Dennis Nedry and break his nose..._

 _And I'll ask Tess out, I'll take her on a date, and we'll have a smashing time and I won't fuck it up._

 _There, all better._

Except it wasn't all better, not at all, because they had finally reached the Rex paddock and the fences were down and the two electric jeeps were on the road, right outside the enclosure.

 _No. Not two._

There was only one jeep on the road. One, not two.

 _There should be two._

"Where's the other car?"

Sattler's voice was calm, but Robert knew that she was screaming inside, that this was only the eye of the storm, when all seemed quiet and still, and the worst was yet to come.

"Shit."

Robert pulled over, parking beside the solitary tour jeep, which was empty. Sattler jumped out and began to search the area, calling out for the missing people.

"Alan! Ian!"

Robert joined her, flashlight in hand, his boots slipping in the mud as he ran along the road, "Dr Grant! Dr Malcolm!"

 _Nothing._

The toilet block had been demolished and trampled into the dirt. Robert climbed over the wreckage, still hollering, and stood in something, something _wet_ and unpleasant. He waved the flashlight over his feet and grimaced, "I think this was Gennaro."

"I think _this_ was too," Sattler winced, kneeling a few feet away.

The Rex had left behind part of the unfortunate lawyer's lower torso and one of his legs, still clad in the shredded remains of those ridiculous shorts, an expensive brown loafer hanging from the limp foot. The Rex had very powerful jaw and neck muscles; she would seize her prey and often shake it to death, tearing off chunks of flesh, like a crocodile holding a wildebeest in its spinning death roll.

There was a foul smell upon the air, heavy and hot, like a sewer, or the ripe garbage dumps of New York in mid-summer, overflowing and pungent. Robert knew that smell, knew it was the Rex's calling card, but it did not mean that she was in the immediate vicinity. On a warm day, you could smell it from half a mile away.

As though taunting him, the Rex began to roar, somewhere in the near distance.

"I think its ahead of us," Sattler whispered, moving to crouch beside him. She sounded tentatively hopeful, but her face was almost grey with despair and fear.

Robert's eyes darted back and forth, searching for any sign of movement, human or otherwise, amongst the surrounding foliage, "She could be anywhere. With the fences out, she can wander in and out of any paddock she likes."

A small sound rose out of the wreckage to their left, an incoherent moan, desperate and painful.

Robert and Sattler began to dig, clawing aside thatched straw and loose bricks with their bare hands, by the glow of the flashlight. A man was lying in the dirt, half-buried by the detritus. It was Dr Malcolm, and he was in a bad way.

"Ian," Sattler breathed, her voice trembling with relief, "Ian, can you hear me?"

They pulled him free, gently so as not to cause him further pain, and Robert moved the flashlight over the man's broken body, inspecting the damage. Cuts and bruises, a particularly nasty abrasion on his chest, and a broken leg, by the look of it. His breathing was harsh and shallow, suggesting broken ribs, or a more severe internal injury perhaps.

"He put a tourniquet on," Sattler said, pointing out the leather belt wrapped around Malcolm's thigh, "Ian? Ian, can you hear me?"

Groaning, Malcolm opened his eyes. His face was dirty and pale, twisted in agony, but he managed to smile, "Remind me to thank John for a lovely weekend."

In the distance, the Rex roared again.

 _She's getting closer_ , Robert thought, _Coming back to scavenge through the leftovers._

"Can we move him?" Sattler asked, casting nervous eyes in the direction of the sound, beyond the treeline.

"We don't have a choice," Robert replied, handing her the flashlight, "Can you put your arms around me, Dr Malcolm?"

Malcolm smiled again, "Mr Muldoon, I hardly know you." Baring his teeth against the pain, he raised his arms and clasped Robert tightly around the shoulders, "Be gentle with me, I'm very delicate."

Robert hoisted Malcolm up, cradling the injured man against his chest like a tired child, and carried him to the jeep, Sattler lighting the way through the wreckage. They settled Malcolm in the back of the jeep, making him as comfortable as possible, and Robert climbed behind the wheel, eager to get back to the Visitor's Center before the Rex showed up. Sattler was still searching the area, traipsing back and forth along the road in silent desperation.

"Ellie, come on!"

She started back towards the jeep, but something caught her eye, something in the Rex paddock, "The other car!" Robert hurried to her side, his heart in his mouth, and peered over the deep concrete trench which separated the enclosure from the road. He could see it now, lying in a broken heap below the trees. The second tour jeep. It had been pushed over the edge of the trench, into the enclosure.

"We have to get down there," Sattler urged, already swinging her legs over the barrier.

"There's some rope in the car, I think," Robert said, "Wait there, I'll get it."

He retrieved a coil of thick climbing rope from the back of the jeep and secured it around one of the fence posts, tossing it down into the paddock. They descended slowly, reaching the ground within a few minutes, and Sattler immediately ran towards the jeep, which looked as though it had been through a crusher. Robert followed, calling out for Dr Grant and the kids.

"Alan!" Sattler was on the brink of tears as she reached the car, stooping to peer into the mangled mess, searching for any sign of life inside, "Alan!"

 _Again, nothing._

"They're not here." Robert approached carefully, placing a gentle hand upon Sattler's shoulder to coax her away from the distressing scene, "Ellie, they're not here. We have to go now, we have to get Dr Malcolm back to the Visitor's Center." She nodded, brushing away tears with the back of her hand, and allowed him to lead her back to the trench. They had not gone more than a few steps before Robert noticed something, "Look! Ellie, look! Footprints!" He shone the flashlight at the ground, illuminating several pairs of footprints, leading away from the wreckage of the jeep.

Sattler knelt in the dirt, brushing the largest print with her fingertips, "Alan, oh thank god! Alan's alive! He's alive, and the kids are with him!"

Robert smiled, touched by her obvious elation and relief, but the moment was brief, marred by another roar in the distance. The Rex was near.

"We can't stay here," Robert said, taking Sattler by the elbow, "We have to go."

"But what about Alan and the kids? We can't just leave them out here!"

"We'll come back in the morning. We can't help them if we're dead, Ellie."

Robert began to climb, only pausing to glance over his shoulder when he was almost at the top of the trench, just to be sure that Sattler had followed him. She nodded up at him bravely. He smiled, pulling himself up on to the road, and reached back to hoist her up after him. They stood there for a moment, catching their breath, but there was to be no respite for them, not yet. Malcolm was calling them from the jeep, _yelling_ at them, and gesticulating wildly in an uncharacteristically frantic fashion.

"Gotta move, gotta get out of here! Let's go, we gotta go, right now!"

Robert did not hesitate and he did not look back, not even to cast his eye over whatever had spooked Malcolm. He grabbed Sattler's arm and ran back to the jeep, dragging her along behind him. It was only when he climbed back behind the wheel that he heard it, that familiar _booming_ sound, ominous and terrible and too close for comfort.

The Rex emerged from the treeline behind them, head first, sniffing the air, and then she stepped out on to the road. She had not seen them yet, but it was only a matter of time, mere _minutes_ at best, before she did.

"Move now, let's go, right now!"

Robert fumbled with the keys, started up the engine and slammed the jeep into gear, just as the Rex erupted from the trees and charged at them, bellowing out a challenge to this new interloper. She might have eaten her fill tonight, but she would kill them all the same, for daring to stray into her territory.

The few seconds it took for the jeep to lurch forward seemed like a hellish eternity, but suddenly they were moving, accelerating, speeding away, and Rex was following, thundering behind them like a vengeful titan.

Malcolm and Sattler were screaming, scrabbling as far into the front of the jeep as they could manage, as the Rex gained ground, closing the gap between them. Robert didn't want to look, but he did anyway, glancing briefly into the side view mirror, and then he looked away again, locking his eyes on the road ahead. _Christ. She's like a mouthful of teeth on two legs. No, not teeth. Fangs. Gigantic fucking fangs._ He was sweating, gripping the wheel so tightly that his knuckles ached, and Malcolm and Sattler were still screaming, only they were screaming at _him_ now, rather than the Rex.

"Must go faster!"

"Shit! Shit! Shit!"

"Open it up, man! Fifth gear! Step it on it! Go, go, go!"

"Shit!"

Robert wished they'd shut up, so that he could concentrate, so that he could _think_. It was bad enough driving in the dark, during a fucking storm, with an apex predator chasing them, without having to put up with two backseat drivers. Against his better judgement, he glanced over his shoulder. The Rex was bearing down on them, clawing at the air with her forelimbs. He turned away, just in time to see a broken tree branch hanging down over the road in front of them.

"DOWN!" He yelled over the cacophony, ducking his head as they ploughed through the obstruction. They made it, but the brief collusion had slowed them down, and the Rex was beside them, crashing her huge head into the side of the jeep, trying to sweep it off balance. She hit them again, and her head smashed into Sattler and Robert, jolting them back and forth in their seats. The jeep veered wildly, tilting precariously on two wheels, and Malcolm fell back, landing between the front seats, his elbow knocking the gear stick into neutral. They were losing ground and the Rex was closing in, bracing herself for a final last strike, a _killing_ blow...

"Get off the stick," Robert shouted, trying to push Malcolm away, "Bloody move!"

Sattler vaulted into the back of the jeep, dragging Malcolm with her, and Robert slammed his fist against the gear stick. The engine roared, and the jeep shot forward, outpacing the Rex by several feet. She snorted her displeasure, slowing to a lumbering lope, and then she gave up the chase altogether, coming to an abrupt halt in the middle of the road as the jeep sped away from her, into the night.

Robert inhaled sharply, allowing himself to breathe for the first time in an eternity, or so it seemed to his starved lungs, at least. He smiled, relief fluttering in his chest. Dazed and unsteady, Sattler climbed back into the front and slumped into the passenger seat, running a tremulous hand through her tousled hair.

In the back of the jeep, Malcolm propped himself up on his elbows, staring at the shrinking silhouette of the Rex. He shook his head, grinning, "You think they'll have _that_ on the tour?"

* * *

In the control room, Tess was pacing back and forth, trying desperately not look like she was falling apart. Ray was still trawling through lines of code, lost in a haze of cigarette smoke, and John was sitting beside him, looking vaguely bemused and not quite as sprightly as usual.

"I'm going to get some coffee," Tess announced suddenly, pausing in mid-stride, "Do you want a coffee, John? Ray, how about you?"

The two men glanced up, perturbed by the false brightness of her voice. John left his seat, his joints popping audibly, and placed a gentle hand upon her shoulder, "Why don't you go outside for a few minutes, Tess. Get some fresh air."

She shook her head, "You need me here. I'm supposed to look after you."

The old man chuckled, "You've been wonderful, my dear, you really have, but I need to look after you too. We're a family here, Tess, and we all look out for each other, especially when we're in trouble...and we certainly _are_ in trouble right now, aren't we? I won't have you going to pieces on my watch." He smiled kindly, "Now, please take a break, for my sake, if not your own. Oh, and forget the blasted coffee. You've brought us three cups already and the stuff is absolutely _dreadful_..."

He was pushing her away, herding her towards the door, cheerfully deaf to her protests, "But I promised Robert that I would stay here and-"

"I know, I know, you promised that you'd keep an eye on me," John chirped, "I'm not as frail as I look, my girl. I'm sure I can manage without you for a few minutes. Besides, Robert isn't here, and I'm your boss anyway, not him. Now, go on, get some air, that's an order..."

Sighing, Tess relented, humbled by the old man's resilience and stoicism. She took one of the yellow raincoats, pulling it over her uniform, "Okay, but I'm only going to have a cigarette outside, _one_ cigarette, and then I'm coming straight back up here, right?"

"Right," John agreed, humouring her, "One cigarette."

Outside, Tess lingered upon the steps, savouring the silence as she lit a cigarette. It was still raining, but the night was warm, and the storm seemed to have passed over the island. Still, she could not allow herself to relax, not when the security systems were still down, not when Robert and the others were still out _there_ , somewhere in the park.

 _They should be back now,_ Tess thought, _This isn't right._

She wished that he hadn't kissed her before he left. There had been something so _final_ about it, as though he had been saying goodbye, only she hadn't grasped it until now. She shivered, despite the mildness of the night, and stared into the darkness, willing him to hurry back. She fancied that she could almost see the headlights of his jeep in the distance, hurtling along the road, but it was only her imagination. Wishful thinking...

 _But I_ can _see them,_ Tess realised suddenly, _They're coming back! I can see them!_

The jeep screeched into the compound, jerking to a halt in front of the Visitor's Center, and Tess ran down the steps to meet it, resisting the urge to throw herself into Robert's arms. He climbed out of the jeep and grabbed her arm, pulling her aside, "Dr Malcolm's hurt. We need a stretcher."

"What happened?"

"I had the distinct pleasure of meeting the Rex," Malcolm piped up, "I think she likes me, you know, although the feeling certainly isn't mutual."

Tess turned wide eyes upon Robert, who was grinding his teeth again, "What about the others? Grant, Gennaro? The kids?"

He shook his head, "Gennaro's dead, but Grant and the kids are alive, I think."

"We saw their footprints," Sattler said, "They headed off into the park."

"Shit," Tess whispered, "Oh _shit_..."

"My sentiments exactly," Malcolm said cheerfully.

* * *

Tess found a lightweight stretcher in the nurse's station on the first floor and they carried Malcolm up to the control room on it, struggling up the staircase and bemoaning the loss of the elevators, which had been taken out by the power cut. Afterwards, Sattler made a return trip to the nurse's station, seeking out morphine and a first aid kit, leaving Tess to keep watch over Malcolm, whilst Robert relayed the situation to John and Ray.

Malcolm gamely maintained his good humour for a while, He indulged in a little harmless flirtation with Tess for a while, and he told jokes to take his mind off the pain, jokes about dinosaurs mostly, or sex, or dinosaur sex, much to John's annoyance. He could not keep up the pretense for long though. The pain was too severe, even for him, and he grew pale and quiet as they waited for Sattler to return from the nurse's station. Ten minutes later, there was still no sign of her, and Tess was worried, not only for Sattler, but for Malcolm too, who was slightly feverish.

"Bobby, watch Ian for me, will you? I'm going to check on Ellie."

John settled himself beside Malcolm, taking the injured man's head in his hands, "I'll take care of him, it's the least I can do." He glanced up at Robert, his face taut with concern, "You should go with her, Robert. That cut looks quite nasty."

"Oh, Bobby!" Tess exclaimed, horrified, "You're hurt!"

"What?" Robert touched his fingertips to his forehead, surprise registering briefly in his eyes when they came away bloody. He turned away, wiping his fingers on his shorts, "It's fine, really. Don't worry about it."

"Don't be stupid," Tess chided, taking his arm, "Come on, let's find Ellie and get you patched up."

They met Sattler in the corridor. She was agitated and apologetic, her cheeks pink with exertion, "Sorry, I've only just managed to find the morphine. It was still packed away, hidden under a pile of boxes in the stockroom." She paused, frowning, "You're bleeding."

"I know," Robert said, "I'm fine, but Ian really needs that morphine."

Sattler nodded, darting into the control room with her supplies.

In the nurse's station, Robert downed a couple of painkillers. He had the beginnings of a stress migraine. Tess was rooting around in the stockroom, looking for bandages. She dislodged one box and brought an avalanche of ten more down on her head, "Oh, for fuck's sake!"

Robert smirked, "Need a hand?"

"No, stay there, I'm coming..."

She emerged, her hair in disarray, triumphantly brandishing a first aid kit. He took it, smiling gratefully, "Thanks."

"You're welcome," Tess replied, watching as he touched his fingers to his forehead again, "It doesn't look too bad, actually."

"The Rex must have grazed me, when she butted the jeep," Robert shrugged, taking a roll of gauze bandages and some antiseptic lotion from the first aid kit, "I didn't even feel it."

"Adrenaline," Tess said, "You'll feel it once the rush wears off. Here, let me." His hands were shaking badly, so she took the lotion from him and applied a small amount to her fingertips, before rubbing it into the wound on his forehead. He twitched, a flicker of discomfort passing across his face, but he did not make a sound. His eyes were closed, his lips slightly parted. He looked peaceful, as though he had fallen asleep where he sat, lulled by her gentle ministrations. For a moment, Tess thought he really had dozed off, but then he opened his eyes and smiled lazily, and she faltered, her heart fluttering, like the wings of small bird trapped beneath her ribcage. It must have showed on her face, because his smile faded and he touched her shoulder, his voice low with concern, "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Tess replied brightly, silently cursing herself. She tore a long strip of gauze from the roll, before dressing the cut, which was still bleeding, but not as much as before, "It isn't deep. You were lucky."

"Tell me about it," Robert chuckled darkly, "Rexy isn't too keen on fast food, I guess." He was smiling again, watching her, "I love the way you stick your tongue out when you're concentrating on something, Tess."

She flushed, avoiding his gaze, "I do?"

"Aye, you do, all the time. I love it."

"Oh," Tess managed, after a long moment. She was at a loss for words, ambushed by this sudden revelation, by Robert saying that he _loved_ something about her, even if it was something stupid and trivial, "Well, thanks, I guess."

"Tess." Robert's voice was gentle, but there was a rough edge to it, and the sound of it quickened her pulse and made her hands tremble, until she had to drop them from their task to hide it from him. His fingers closed around her wrists, "Tess, look at me."

She kept her eyes on his boots, her jaw set, proud and stubborn, but she could not deny him. She did not _want_ to deny him. She raised her dark eyes to his face, meeting his gaze and holding it, unwavering, in a silent challenge.

 _Vulnerable._ Robert could see it now, the softness beneath the steel, and he thought that she had never looked more lovely than she did now, when she was cornered, like a vixen in a trap. What would she do, he wondered, if he set her free? Would she run, or would she stand her ground? _Flight or fight?_

Time to find out.

Still holding her wrists, but lightly now, he kissed her, brushing his lips against hers.

It was a chaste kiss, tentative and unassuming, but Tess stiffened, her fists and jaw clenched tightly, and Robert immediately relaxed his grip on her wrists and began to draw away, expecting her to run from him, or to slap him, or both, perhaps.

She did neither. She just stood there, staring at him like a startled doe, frozen in the headlights of an oncoming truck.

So he kissed her again, harder this time, and she began to surrender, slowly melting against him, and then she opened her mouth, and it was so sudden, so _unexpected_ , that he released his grip upon her wrists with a husky groan, murmuring something which might have been her name.

And then they were kissing, _really_ kissing, and Tess was arching into him, clawing at his back and whimpering, frantic and wanton, until he pushed her against the table, pinning her beneath his weight. He cupped her buttocks, easing her up onto the table, and she wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him down into another deep kiss. He braced himself against her, one hand twisting into her hair, whilst the other groped at her knee, her thigh, his callused fingers sinking into her flesh, leaving bruises in their wake as they moved higher, and higher still, until her eyes went dim and hazy, like distant stars. She was so _soft_ , so fragile and pliant in his arms, and she felt so _good_ , and he wanted her...no, he _deserved_ her, goddammit! He deserved something good for once, something that made him feel happy, after all he had been through over the past year.

 _She isn't a reward, she isn't my prize,_ Robert thought, berating himself savagely, but he couldn't stop, he _wouldn't_ stop, because he was selfish and stupid, and because Tess was wrapped around him, warm and welcoming, her limbs and lips open for him. He could almost feel the heat emanating from between her legs, against his pelvis, and his cock ached in sympathy. Growling, he began to grind against her, seeking temporary relief, but this only served to heighten his frustration. He needed to be inside her, and he needed it _now_ , before they both lost their nerve, or someone walked in on them. Scattering kisses across her face and the curve of her throat, he dropped one hand to her breast, his fingers fumbling with the buttons of her shirt, the other still grasping her thigh.

"Bobby..." Tess whispered urgently, her breath hot against his ear, "Let me go, Bobby."

"No," Robert kissed the corner of her mouth, "Never."

"Bobby, _stop._ Stop, _please_." Her knees came together, compressing his wrist, and she pushed at his chest weakly, until he finally relented, hearing the hoarse plea in her voice. He raised questioning eyes to her face, confused by her sudden reluctance.

"Did I hurt you?"

The desperate wildness had gone from him, driven out by his concern for her well-being. His hands were gentle now, resting upon her shoulders, and his eyes were contrite, almost embarrassingly so.

"No," Tess said, "No, you didn't hurt me. I just..." She paused, searching desperately for the right words, "I just can't do this, Bobby. It isn't right. You and me, here, tonight; it isn't right, none of it, and I just _can't_..."

Robert took her hands between his own, but she shook him off, throwing back her head with a hoarse laugh, "I'm sorry, I really am. Christ, I'm such a fucking idiot!" He shushed her fiercely and took her into his arms, stroking her hair and murmuring soothing nonsense. Clinging to him, she fought back sudden tears with the stubbornness of a bold child with a scraped elbow.

 _Vulnerable,_ Robert thought again, _But why? Did someone hurt you? Did someone break your heart, Tess? Or is it me, is it my fault? Did I take advantage of you, that night on the beach? Have I done it again tonight? Talk to me, tell me what's wrong, and I'll move the stars to make it right for you, I swear..._

"Guys, I need a little backup upstairs, John's talking crazy..."

Ray appeared in the doorway, looking harassed. They sprang apart guilty, but he barely glanced at them, cursing under his breath as he reached into the pocket of his slacks for his cigarettes. Robert gave Tess's arm one last reassuring squeeze and they followed Ray back up to the control room, furtively straightening their dishevelled clothes to remove any possible clue of what had passed between them.

"What happened?" Tess asked, "What's wrong with John?"

Ray snorted, "He wants me to shut down the entire system. He's insane!"

"We've never done that before," Robert said, frowning, "If you shut it down, it might not come back on at all..."

"That's what I'm afraid of, Bob," Ray muttered grimly, "Christ, why didn't I just stay with Disney?"

 **a/n Phew, big chapter! Thanks for the reviews guys, keep 'em coming! _T L E x_**


	7. Chapter 7

**The Killing Moon**

 **Chapter Seven**

Robert and Tess followed Ray into the control room, where John was pacing the floor, whilst Sattler tended to Malcolm. He looked a little brighter now, the morphine shot having finally taken effect. John looked up at Ray, expectantly, and the technician immediately threw up his hands, "I am _not_ going to shut down the system, John. No way, not a chance, so get it out of your head, right now."

"Ray, just listen to me, please," John said, keeping his voice calm and reasonable, "We're quickly running out of options here. Shutting down the system might be our only chance to claw back a little control over this situation."

"No, no, no, that's crazy, you're out of your mind, he's absolutely out of his mind!" Ray slumped into a chair, holding his head in his hands. Sattler stood up, her eyes moving between John and Ray, searching for answers, "Wait a minute, what exactly does this all mean? What are we talking about?"

"We're talking, my dear, about a calculated risk, which is the only option left to us," John said evenly, spinning his cane between the palms of his hands, "We will never find the command Nedry used. He covered his tracks far too well, and I think it's obvious he's not coming back." He turned back to Ray, "So, shutting down the system-"

Ray shook his head, "I will _not_ do it. You'll have to find somebody else to do it, because I won't, John. No way."

John raised a hand, continuing as though he had not heard Ray's loud protestations at all, "Shutting down the system is the only way to wipe out everything he did. If I understand correctly, all the system will come back on their original start-up modes." He glanced at Ray, "Correct?"

Ray shrugged, "Theoretically, yes, but we've never shut down the whole system. It may not come back at all."

"Would we get the phones back?" Sattler asked, a sliver of hope creeping into her voice, "The door locks, the fences?"

"Yes, again, in theory."

Robert was leaning against Ray's abandoned workstation, one hand resting discreetly upon the small of Tess's back. He had been almost completely silent for the last ten minutes, listening and thinking, biding his time, but he spoke up now, tentatively, "What about the lysine contingency? We could put that into effect."

As he had predicted, John immediately shot him down, looking horrified at the suggestion, "That's absolutely out of the question."

Sattler frowned, "Lysine? I'm sorry, I don't understand..."

"The lysine contingency," Ray explained, shooting a grateful glance at Robert, "It's intended to prevent the spread of the animals, in case they ever got off the island. Dr. Wu inserted a gene that makes a single faulty enzyme in protein metabolism. Animals can't manufacture the amino acid lysine. Unless they're continually supplied with lysine by us, they'll slip into coma and die."

Tess cleared her throat, struggling to be heard above John's frantic objections, "How long will it take to work?"

Avoiding her desperate gaze, Ray dropped his eyes to the forgotten cigarette between his fingers, which was almost down to the filter. He discarded it, fumbling in his pocket for another, "About a week, I think. More or less."

Several voices cried out as one, in utter despair, and Malcolm raised himself up on his elbows, grunting, his eyes fixed upon John, hard and livid, "Seven days? _Seven?_ Oh, that's just _great_..."

John turned away from those accusing eyes, whirling upon Ray, his tiny frame trembling as he hissed furiously at the technician, "People are dying!" The room fell silent, like a tomb, and John took a deep breath, as though he was summoning his last shred of authority, "Will you please shut down the system." His voice was steady now, courteous and dignified, but also unyielding, the voice of a man in control, and Ray finally conceded defeat, shaking his head.

"You asked for it." The technician walked across the room, slowly, as though hoping John would lose his nerve and call him back. The old man did not waver though, and Ray sighed heavily, taking a small key from his pocket. The power switches were locked away in a metal box on the wall and, as Ray opened the box and began the shutdown process, he could almost feel the tension surrounding him, like a thick fog. The others were watching, not daring to look at one another, or even to breathe, not just yet. The suspense in the room was almost palpable.

"Hold on to your butts."

Ray flipped the last switch.

The control room was plunged into darkness as every monitor and screen went black, followed by the florescent lights overhead, and those out in the corridor, in quick succession. The room was quiet and still, almost eerie, like a jungle at dusk, only without birdsong to punctuate the silence, or even the incessant chatter of crickets in the undergrowth. Robert had brought his flashlight from the jeep. He turned it on, squinting in the cool glare, and pointed the light in Ray's direction. Ray blinked at him nervously, his eyes darting around the room, helpless and impatient. Suddenly, the technician started forward excitedly, hurrying over to Dennis Nedry's workstation, "Hah! It's okay! Look, it's okay!" He beckoned, chuckling happily to himself, and the others crowded around him, staring at the screen and the two words displayed there, glowing faintly.

SYSTEM READY.

Ray grinned triumphantly, "It's on! It worked!"

"Wait a minute," Malcolm interrupted, looking irritated and perplexed, "What are you talking about? _It worked?_ What do you mean? Everything is still off, in case you hadn't noticed."

Ray faltered, but only for a moment, "The shutdown must have tripped the circuit breakers. Don't worry about it, all we have to do is turn them back on and reboot a few systems in here - the phones, security doors, half a dozen others...but yeah, it worked! System ready!"

Robert glanced up, "Where are the breakers?"

"Maintenance shed," Ray replied, "On the other side of the compound." He shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it on the back of his chair, already heading for the door, "Give me three minutes down there, that's all I need. Three minutes, and I can have the power back on in the entire park."

John nodded, "Fine, that's fine, Ray. Thank you." He turned to the rest of the group, "I'd like everyone else to head down to the emergency bunker and stay there for now, just to be safe."

"Do you want me to come with you, Ray?" Tess asked, "I don't like the idea of you going out there alone."

Ray smiled, "Thanks, but I'll be all right." He paused in the doorway, "I'll see you in five minutes, in the bunker."

Tess raised an eyebrow, "Three minutes, you said."

"Three," Ray agreed, "Three minutes, five tops. Wish me luck."

He hurried away, leaving the others standing in the dim glow of Robert's flashlight, awkward and uncertain. John took charge, directing them in a firm tone, "Right, all right everyone, let's move to the emergency bunker, quickly and quietly, if you please. Robert, if you would be so kind as to carry Ian's stretcher, there's a good chap...Tess, my girl, can you take the other end? Yes, that's right, _gently_ now, gently..."

They made their way downstairs, slowly, so as not to cause Malcolm any further pain. Sattler walked slightly ahead, carrying the flashlight, with John limping at her side, his elbow tucked firmly around her own. Robert and Tess carried Malcolm upon the stretcher between them, moving gingerly down the staircase and across the foyer. They were both sweating heavily, concentrating on their feet and trying to avoid looking at one another. Malcolm chattered away all the while, expounding his views chaos theory in an enthusiastic manner. His voice was light and lively, with a slight edge of desperation, and only the rigid set of his jaw revealed the true extent of his agony. They crossed the compound as quickly as possible, each keeping a cautious eye upon their surroundings for any sign of danger. It was only mid-morning, but the air was already heavy and humid, and there was little sign of the storm, other than the dampness of the earth beneath their feet.

The emergency bunker was blissfully cool in comparison, although it was still a little too close and stifling to be comfortable, especially without the luxury of the AC, which would have been running at full blast under normal circumstances. Once safely ensconced in the concrete depths of the bunker, Robert lifted Malcolm from the stretcher and eased him on to the medical table. Sattler had brought the first aid kit along from the Visitor's Center and she made use of it now, cleaning Malcolm's wounds and changing his bandages, ensuring that the man's broken leg was elevated and secure.

Afterwards, there was nothing left to do but wait, and the waiting was the worst part of the ordeal for Robert, even after all the horrors of the previous night. It was worse than the power outage, worse than the sudden realisation that the jeeps were stranded out in the park, worse than Dennis Nedry's betrayal and disappearance, worse than being chased down by the Rex. Somehow, it was even worse than the moment when he had trodden in the gory remains of Donald Gennaro, and that had been pretty fucking terrible. A real low point.

But no, this was far worse, this interminable purgatory of _waiting_ ; it was almost like water torture, a slow death, helpless and hopeless.

 _Drip, drip, drip,_ Robert thought, allowing himself a morbid smile, _Oh, dear lord, I do believe I'm losing my fucking mind._

Sattler was pacing, breaking her stride every so often to climb the metal steps to the surface, murmuring to herself in a desolate voice, "Something's happened. Something went wrong." She glanced around the room, silently pleading for reassurance.

After a long moment, John indulged her, smiling with a false brightness that did not quite reach his eyes, "This is just a delay. All major theme parks have delays, you know. When they opened Disneyland in 1956, nothing worked."

Malcolm snorted, "Yeah, but if the Pirates of the Caribbean breaks down, the pirates don't eat the tourists."

Sattler turned away from their squabbling, fixing her gaze on Robert, "Something went wrong. I can't wait anymore. I'm going to get the power back on." There was a slight tremor of fear in her voice, but she did not waver, not even when Tess reached out to catch her by the wrist, as if to hold her back.

Robert got to his feet, grateful for the opportunity to _do_ something, at last, "You can't just stroll down the road, you know."

 _But we let Ray go out there, didn't we? We let him go,_ I _let him go, alone and unarmed...and now..._

He moved across the room, reaching into his pocket for the key to the steel gun locker. He opened it, revealing the impressive array of weapons within, "I'm going with you."

John raised a hand, "Robert, let's not be too hasty. Ray's only been gone for..." He glanced at his watch, frowning, "Oh..."

"Three minutes, he said," Tess murmured, "Five, at the very most."

Robert had already selected one of the shotguns, a Franchi SPAS-12. He beckoned Tess to his side, keeping his voice low as John continued to protest loudly behind them, "Here, take this." It was another shotgun, already loaded. He pressed it into her hand, his eyes fixed upon her face, "You know the drill."

Tess nodded, "Stay here, keep an eye on John and Ian."

"That's my girl." Robert turned away, loading shells into his own shotgun, "If we're not back within the hour, you get the hell out of here, all of you. Don't come looking for us, Tess. Do you hear me?"

"Right, right, no heroics, I hear you," Tess sighed, struggling to keep her voice patient and steady. She was quiet for a long moment, thinking, and then she spoke, reaching out to place a hand upon Robert's shoulder. "There's just one problem with your plan, I'm afraid." Robert glanced down at her, one eyebrow raised in silent question. Tess raised her free hand, holding the shotgun against her chest, "I'm not staying here, Bobby. I'm coming with you."

"I don't _bloody_ think so!"

Robert's voice rang out like a gunshot, echoing around the concrete walls of the bunker, and the others fell silent, gaping at him, startled by his sudden outburst. Embarrassed, he pushed Tess out of the small room, ignoring her protests, and up into the coolness of the staircase. She glowered up at him, still clutching the shotgun. He planted his fists on either side of her, trapping her, and fixed her with steely eyes.

"Now listen, you're going to stay _here_ , where it's _safe_ , and that's an order, Tess Hopkirk. End of discussion."

Tess ducked away from him, scowling, "There hasn't even been a discussion, Bobby. You've just shot me down without a second thought, as usual." She inhaled, her chest rattling, and her face crumpled, until she looked like a frightened child, "You're always leaving me behind. You did it before, when you went out to look for Dr Grant and the others, and now you're trying to do it again, but I won't let you, because you're not my boss, Bobby, and I'm not a kid."

Tess paused, her voice strained and tight. Tears began to form in her eyes, spilling down her flushed cheeks, cutting clean tracks through the grime and sweat. Robert started forward, wanting to comfort her, but she backed away, shaking her head, "I don't want to stay here, where it's safe. Not this time. Not when Ray's out there. He's my friend, Bobby. He's _our_ friend, and he might need our help. John and Ian are _safe_ , they're safe for now, but Ray is out there...he's out _there_ , Bobby, and he's _alone_. Christ..." Tess swiped at her eyes with her knuckles, furiously brushing away her tears, defiant and resolute, despite her obvious distress, "So, I'm coming with you, and that's that. End of discussion."

Robert did not speak. He was trying to find a way out of this mess, weighing up his options, and failing miserably. When Tess Hopkirk's mind was made up, there was little anyone could do to dissuade her from whatever path she had chosen, and he knew it.

 _Hell, I could always knock her out and tie her up, I suppose. She would give me a black eye for my troubles once her hands were free, and she'd probably never speak to me again, but at least she would be safe. She might even thank me for it, eventually, when this is all over..._

 _No...no, she wouldn't thank me for it, and she wouldn't forgive me, not ever. I'd lose her..._

 _Yes, probably. She would hate me, but she would be alive. If I really care about her, I'll find a way to keep her here, with John and Ian, out of harm's way..._

 _No. If I really care about her, I'll step aside and let her make her own decisions. I don't own her, she isn't mine to control..._

 _Oh, fucking hell, I'm sweating like a pig in a slaughterhouse. This woman will be the death of me, if the fucking dinosaurs don't get me first...  
_

Robert took a deep breath, moving to take Tess in his arms. She braced the shotgun between them like a barrier, "I'm coming with you, Bobby. You can't stop me, so don't even try."

"You're a stubborn wench," Robert murmured, "An _infuriatingly_ stubborn wench...but you know..." Tess opened her mouth, ready to challenge his words with a caustic remark of her own, but he pressed a finger against her lips, smiling now, feeling his heart overflow with sudden tenderness, "I wouldn't want it any other way."

"Bobby..."

Tess stiffened against him, her voice wavering, and Robert knew that she was thinking about what had passed between them in the nurse's office. He smiled reassuringly, stepping away to put a little breathing space between them, "Nothing has changed for us, Tess. Not from where I'm standing anyway. Let's just take things slow, okay? No pressure."

She returned his smile with tremulous relief, and reached out to take his hand, "Okay. No pressure."

"Good," Robert said, "Anyway, I think we've got bigger fish to fry right now. Are you ready to go?"

"Ready when you are."

They descended the staircase, hand in hand. John glanced up at them, his brow lined with concern, "Everything all right?"

Tess nodded, "I'm going with Robert and Ellie to the maintenance shed. That is, unless you would prefer me to stay here, with you and Ian?"

"Well, I don't want _anyone_ to go out there, but I don't think we have a choice," John sighed heavily, "There should be a set of blueprints in here somewhere, for the maintenance shed."

"They're in the filing cabinet," Tess said, "Behind you. Second drawer from the top, I think."

Once he had the blueprints in hand, John spread them across Malcolm's lap and legs, acknowledging the injured man's hiss of pain with a perfunctory apology. Robert, Tess and Sattler crowded around the medical table, peering down at the blueprints as John traced the lines with his forefinger. He seemed ill at ease with the diagram, but he pressed on, trying to keep his tone confident and unaffected, "Now, this isn't going to be like switching on the kitchen light, but I think I can follow this and talk you through it."

Sattler smiled nervously, "Right." She took a pair of walkie-talkies from the shelf behind her, handing one to John, "I'm on channel two."

John looked uncomfortable, "You know, it should really be _me_ going. I mean, I'm a..." He paused clumsily, fumbling for the right words, his eyes darting between Sattler to Tess, "And you're a..."

Malcolm coughed, embarrassed for the old man. Sattler shook her head, already turning away, "Look, we can discuss sexism in survival situations when I get back, okay?" She shot an exasperated glance at Tess, who rolled her eyes in sympathy. They followed Robert, climbing the staircase, Sattler muttering under her breath as they reached the top, "Men! Bah!"

"Tell me about it," Tess snorted, "I guess we should have stayed in the kitchen."

"Well, it's not a _terrible_ idea, in all honesty" Sattler mused solemnly, "There's ice cream and wine in the kitchen."

 **a/n Sorry for the lack of updates in the past few weeks. I've started a new job and, between that and my family/friends/husband, I haven't had much free time for writing. This is just a small chapter, apologies for that, but there is more to come, I promise. The next chapter won't be much fun for Robert, I'm afraid! As always, thanks for the reviews/favourites/follows, and keep them coming! _T L E x_**


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